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gigabyte-flare · 2 months

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He Comes Alive (Part 9) [FINALE]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: You are found by Ada Wong, an agent from the BSAA sent to escort you to Tricell's laboratories. They promise to remove the plaga from you and your unborn child, but only if you help them first.

Word Count: 8.5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, pregnancy, monster f*cking, body horror, lactation kink, C-Section DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

Author's Note at the end!

You scramble back over to the driver’s side upon hearing the woman say ‘BSAA’ and open the door, climbing out of the truck. You see in addition to the red button up v-neck top and black gloves, she’s wearing black leather pants with knee high black boots with heels. She has a pistol in a shoulder holster. You watch her brown eyes shift to your hands.

“You’re infected,” she says; it’s not a question.

You look down at your hands, the inky veins pulsating, letting out a subtle gasp before hiding your hands in the sleeves of your shirt.

“Hopefully you’re not too far along to do something about it. Grab your bag; we’re leaving,” the woman called Ada commands.

You reach into the truck, grabbing the back pack before shutting the door of the truck, following closely behind Ada.

“Wait, Leon can’t be that close by, can he?” you ask.

“No but there’s an APB on that truck and we don’t want to be around when the cops finally catch up,” Ada replies as she leads you to a black Chevy Corvette, “get in.”

You open up the passenger side door, tossing your backpack onto the floor before getting inside. Ada gets into the driver’s seat, starting the car before getting back on the highway. The two of you are silent for a while, you rest your head on the passenger’s side window, watching the scenery outside as you mindlessly caress your belly.

Surprisingly, Ada breaks the silence, “is that Leon’s?”

You look over at Ada before glancing down at your belly, letting out a sorrowful sigh, “yeah… it is. I’m surprised you didn’t already know, being with the BSAA and all…”

“I didn’t have a lot of time to get filled in when I was sent to find you,” Ada replies, keeping her eyes on the road as she drives.

“Is… Clive ok?” you ask hesitantly, looking back over at Ada.

“As far as I know, he’s fine.”

“Can I talk to him, possibly? Once we get to wherever we’re going… that is…”

“Unfortunately that won’t be possible. I’ve been instructed to bring you to Tricell’s laboratories in upstate New York. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You shift in your seat uncomfortably before looking back out the window.

Ada looks over to you for a moment before continuing, “don’t worry. We’ll stop at a motel or two to rest up, I’m sure you need it.”

“What’s Tricell?”

Ada pauses briefly before answering, “it’s a… multi-industrial company, mostly dabbling in pharmaceutical and biomechanical research. They fund the efforts of the BSAA.”

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy as you drift to sleep. You awaken when the car suddenly comes to a stop. Confused, you look over at Ada, still only half awake.

“I found a motel. Stay here and I’ll get us checked in,” Ada says before getting out of the car.

You watch her walk up to the motel office, opening the door to go inside. After a few minutes of waiting, you watch her come back out, dangling a key in one hand and motioning for you to go with her with the other. You open the car door, grabbing your bag as you climb out and shut the door, following her into the motel room.

Upon entering, Ada switches on one of the lamps next to the full size bed to give the two of you some light, the red lampshade casting an eerie glow in the room. You set your bag down on the floor next to the bed, practically collapsing into a nearby arm chair, letting out a loud sigh.

“How long have you been seeing Leon?” Ada asks, walking towards you and sitting on the side of the bed opposite of you.

“Since like… September or October I think… so much has happened; everything is a blur.”

Ada nods, her gaze shifting to her feet, “I see…”

“Do you… know Leon?”

Her eyes shift back up to yours before nodding, “I do… it’s complicated.”

One of Ada’s hands reaches up, pulling her v-neck aside a little until you can see what looks like a large burn scar, causing your breath to hitch.

“I met Leon in Raccoon City during a viral outbreak 15 years ago, crossing paths occasionally. A couple years ago, he and I hooked up and that’s when I found out he was still infected with Las Plagas. He had infected me.”

“And that scar is…?” you ask, swallowing hard to stifle your nerves.

“When it was removed by Tricell. Assuming you’re not too far along, they should be able to do the same for you, too.”

You look down at your hands, the faint inky veins still showing, pulsating. You clench your fists and tuck them back into your sleeves.

“I hope so…”

You wrap your arms around yourself, breathing deeply to calm yourself. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What was Leon like before… you know…”

Ada smirks, chuckling a little before responding, “at first? Like a little lost puppy. He was a rookie cop who was late for his first day on the force; unfortunate that he had to deal with a zombie outbreak on his first day of being a cop--”

“Wait a second… zombies?!”

Ada blinks at you a few times before continuing, “right… I forgot that wasn’t public information. Yes, zombies. The whole city had gotten infected with a virus developed by the Umbrella Corporation.”

“That big pharmaceutical company that went under? It was because they made a virus?”

“A bio-organic weapon,” Ada corrects you before continuing, “anyway, Leon became more charismatic as he got older; became quite the ladies man. Had the looks for it, too, as you clearly saw.”

You can’t help but smirk at that.

“But he had a heart of gold; it’s a shame that--”

Before Ada can finish her sentence, your head starts pounding. You cry out, gripping the sides of your head. Your eyes also start watering.

Ẅ̷͇h̸̬̪̐ē̴̦͠r̸̢̦̕ē̷̻͜ ̴̨͆ȃ̶̆͜r̴̮̈̈͜ē̴̡͋ ̴̢̞̒͂ÿ̵̨́ö̴̹́u̷͖̕͝?̸̰̎͐!̶̥̋́

“Fuck off!” you scream, the pounding in your head getting progressively worse as your finger nails dig into the sides of your head.

I̸̼̓ ̴̨̍a̴̙͌m̷̖͑ ̸̛͖g̶͓̃o̴̦̓i̵̬͗n̶̦̒ģ̵̒ ̷̳͒ẗ̴͈́o̷̘̒ ̸͓͊f̸̤͊i̶̞͛ń̸̲d̴͇̒ ̶̙͌y̵̪͒o̶̰͝u̸̲̇.̵̹̒

“Shit!” Ada says, standing up from the bed and rushing to you, one hand grasping your shoulder while the other swings up, holding something that looks kind of like a pen.

You feel a sudden sting in the side of your neck and what follows is instant relief. The pounding in your head subsides. You let go of your head and look down at your hands, seeing the inky veins slowly fade.

“Thank god I brought that with me,” Ada says, taking a step back and looking down at the device she just used on you.

“What is that?” you ask, out of breath from your ordeal.

“An inhibitor. It will slow the progression of the plaga, but not for long. We need to get you to the Tricell lab and fast,” Ada steps aside, motioning to the bed, “get some rest, we’ll get on the road first thing in the morning.”

“Right…”

You stand up from the chair, your body still weak from the outburst you just endured, staggering over to the bed and collapsing onto it on your side, falling asleep within minutes.

Ada waits until she knows the girl is asleep before stepping outside. She looks around, spotting a pay phone at the end of the walkway in front of the motel rooms. She walks up to it, digging a couple quarters from her pocket and feeding them into the machine. Picking up the receiver, she dials a number. It rings a few times before answering to dead silence.

“It’s me.”

“Do you have the girl?” a man asks, his voice rough, but full of authority.

“I do, however there’s one problem,” Ada replies.

“I don’t do problems, Ada, you know that,” the man growls.

Ada rolls her eyes, “Listen, Simmons, it’s not my fault. She’s infected and the plaga is taking over at an alarming rate. I had to use the inhibitor Luis gave me.”

There’s silence for a moment, she can almost picture Derek Simmons, the National Security Advisor for the President of the United States, stroking his chin in thought while wearing that ridiculous ring on his hand.

“We proceed according to plan.”

“What about her?” Ada asks, the alarm evident in her voice, “if we don’t do something, she’ll be completely under Leon’s control.”

“Ada… are you trying to tell me you’re concerned about the girl?”

Fuck you asshole… Ada curses internally, her eyebrows furrowing as her hand squeezes the handset on the phone. She quickly comes up with a plan.

“What if we make a deal with her? We use her as bait to lure Leon to us in exchange for removing the plaga from her.”

Again, Simmons pauses, probably mulling over Ada’s idea. Then she hears his trademark chuckle, causing chills to run down her spine.

“I like how you think, Ada. That should work beautifully. To add to it, Dr. Sera believes he’ll be able to extract the plaga from her unborn child as well; that’ll make Wesker happy at least.”

Ada can’t help but smile, “that’s great, that will give her more than enough of a reason to cooperate in Leon’s capture.”

“Now then, hurry up and get the girl here, the clock is ticking.”

Ada hangs up the pay phone, turning around to head back inside the motel room. She walks up to the armchair that the girl had been sitting in earlier and sits down. She tries to rest her eyes, but sleep eludes her; instead, she watches the girl sleep. She’s sleeping on her side, her shoulder slowly rising and falling with each breath she takes. Her eyes slowly shift to her belly, which is clearly visible under the blanket. Despite only being a few months along, she appears to be almost to term; the work of the plaga, no doubt.

Ada’s thoughts shift to Leon and she finds herself reminiscing. From that bright, shy, yet noble police officer fresh from the academy to an abomination hell bent on ensuring the survival of its species, she finds her heart breaking for him. The Leon Scott Kennedy she knew was dead and gone, corrupted by the plaga inside him.

She doesn’t realize she nodded off until she hears the girl whimper in her sleep, jolting her awake in the chair. The girl’s eyes are squeezing themselves shut, her hand gripping into the sheets as her body trembles, the tell tale dark veins pulsating on her hand. Cursing to herself, she looks over at the clock on the bedside table, reading just after 4AM. There’s no time to wake her up, they need to leave and get to the lab immediately.

Ada springs up from the chair, tossing the blankets off the girl and carefully picking her up bridal style. Ada kicks the door open, making her way over to her Corvette, struggling to get the door open. She sits the girl in the passenger’s seat once she gets the door open and rushes over to the driver’s side. She turns the ignition, the car roaring to live which causes the girl to rouse from her slumber.

“Ada…? What’s going on…?” the girl asks, her voice soft.

“I’ve got to get you to the lab, just hang tight.”

Ada pushes her foot on the brake, reaching her other hand to the stick shift to put the car into drive. Her gaze shifts to the rear view mirror; what she sees chills her straight to her core. Standing just inside the edge of the forest, illuminated by the red brake lights of her car, is Leon. The front of his shirt coated in what she can only assume is blood, his mouth hanging agape as blood drips from it, showing off his elongated incisors. The more she looks, the worse it gets; she spots his tail whipping back and forth and four large claws coming out of his back, outstretched.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asks, panic starting to settle into her voice as she wakes up.

“Nothing,” Ada replies sharply, furrowing her brows, throwing the car into drive and slamming her foot on the gas.

The car peels out of the parking lot, turning sharply to get back onto the main road. She has no idea how fast she’s going and she doesn’t care. She has at least another two hours of driving to do, if not more and time is of the essence. She knew the inhibitor wouldn’t last forever, but she’s alarmed that it wore off that quickly and by the fact that Leon had tracked her down that fast; she had driven well over a hundred miles before stopping at the motel.

She has no intention of stopping now. She can already hear Simmons scolding her for not using the opportunity to capture him, but it was too dangerous, she would need backup. That was the first time she had seen him transformed like that and as much as she hated to admit it, it had shaken her.

By some miracle, she doesn’t run into a single police car and the two of them arrive at Tricell Laboratories safely, more or less. She looks over to the girl just as she parks the car.

“Can you walk?” Ada asks as she opens the driver’s side door.

“I… I think so…” the girl replies, her voice weak.

It’s still the early hours of the morning, the sun is just barely starting to brighten the sky, so it’s no surprise to Ada that those inky veins are sprawled all over the girl’s exposed skin. Ada practically jumps out of the car, rushing over to the passenger’s side to help the girl out, wrapping an arm around her waist to help steady her balance as she guides her over to the Tricell building. Upon getting to the door, Ada slams the side of her fist into the call button, and a few seconds later, a voice comes through the speaker.

“State your business,” says a gruff male voice.

“It’s Ada Wong. I have the girl but she needs medical attention immediately.”

A loud buzzing sound comes from the door and Ada kicks the door open and rushes the two of you inside. Within moments, a group of men and women in lab coats come rushing in, pushing a stretcher with them. Ada guides the girl to the stretcher and several of the lab technicians help the girl lay onto the stretcher. Ada’s eyes shift to one of them in particular, an older man with dark skin and long dark hair. She watches as he pulls an inhibitor from his lab coat pocket, jabbing it into the side of the girl’s neck, injecting the serum into her.

“You got her here just in time,” he says to Ada; he has a thick Hispanic accent.

“I wasn’t sure if we we’re going to make it, Luis…” Ada says, her breaths heavy.

“Take her into one of the infirmary rooms and prep her for surgery; make sure you have the UV lights on,” Luis commands the other technicians, watching as they wheel the stretcher away.

“You won’t be able to operate yet,” Ada says once she and Luis are alone in the hallway.

Luis looks to her, raising an eyebrow at her, “and why not?”

“Simmons wants to use her as bait to lure Leon into Tricell’s custody.” Ada says as the two of them begin to walk down the hallway together.

“What does he need Leon for? Does this have to do with why that pompous prick is helping Wesker with Uroboros--”

Ada stops in her tracks, grabbing Luis by his upper arm, squeezing it as she snaps at him in a hushed tone, “keep your voice down!”

Luis glances around to make sure no one is in earshot before continuing, “what on Earth would he want with Leon?”

“I have no idea, something nefarious, no doubt. But I’d much rather keep my head than question him and get on his bad side,” Ada replies, the two of them resuming their walk down the hall.

They come upon a set of doors; Luis swipes a keycard into the receptacle next to the door and the doors slide open, the two of them walking inside what appears to be a laboratory. Once inside, Ada lets herself relax a little, however the image of Leon in the red glow of her brake lights comes rushing back to her, causing her to visibly shiver. Luis looks over at her, once again raising an eyebrow at her.

“I saw him, Luis…” Ada says, her gaze shifting to make eye contact with him, “he’s on par with Saddler.”

“Shit…” Luis mutters under his breath, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter, putting one in his mouth and lighting it.

“What I don’t understand is… if Leon was still infected when he rescued Ashley, why didn’t he go brain dead like the others when he killed Saddler?”

Luis takes a long drag from his cigarette, grabbing it from his lips before exhaling a large cloud of smoke, “Leon and Ashley were infected with a special kind of plaga, ones that could act independently once fully turned. My guess? The plaga inside Leon could sense it was the last of its kind and mutated into a dominant, giving it the ability to infect others and breed.”

“I see…” Ada replies, her eyes looking to the floor absentmindedly as she wraps her arms around herself.

“What I don’t understand is why didn’t he tell anyone? Did he even know he was still infected? I could have saved him… it should have been me running the machine, not Ashley…”

“There’s no use beating yourself up over it. It was nine years ago--”

“But he saved my life, Ada!” Luis exclaims, throwing his hands up, “I should have died that day in the mines, the least I could have done was meet him in the lab and run the machine; that burden should never have been on the girl’s shoulders...”

The two of them stand in silence in an unspoken agreement to drop the subject. Ada drops her arms to her sides and starts to walk over to the doors leading out of the lab.

“I’m going to go check on the girl, are you coming or not?”

Upon opening your eyes, you're immediately blinded by not only bright fluorescent lights, but by the purple hue of powerful ultraviolet lights, causing you to wince and softly groan. However, your eyes quickly adjust and you attempt to sit up in the bed you’re in, only to find you are hooked up to all kinds of medical equipment.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You turn your head towards the familiar voice, finding Ada standing next to your bed, her arms crossed as she looks down at you. Relief washes over you, as the last thing you could recall prior to waking up was the immense pain rushing through your body and Leon’s voice pounding in your brain.

“Ok… considering…” you reply, your voice hoarse and your throat dry.

You unconsciously lick your lips, finding them chapped and sore.

“Here,” says another voice with a strong Hispanic accent, “I got some water for you.”

You turn your head to the opposite side of the bed, finding a man with longer, dark hair and tanned skin; he’s holding out a glass of water to you, which you don’t hesitate in taking and gulping down.

“This is Dr. Sera, one of Tricell’s lead scientists,” Ada explains, motioning one of her arms towards the man.

“Please… just call me Luis. I’ve never been one for formalities,” he replies smiling at you, “how do you feel about getting an ultrasound done?”

You slowly nod, taking deep breaths, “I feel ok enough to do that, but what for?”

“I believe that we may be able to save your child. Depending on the development of the fetus, we might be able to extract the plaga and spare your child’s life. That’s my hope anyway. Then, afterwards, we can remove the plaga from you as well.”

Your heart skips a beat. The possibility of being able to save your unborn child didn’t even cross your mind, it gave you hope for the first time since this madness started.

“Absolutely, if there’s any chance of saving my baby, I’ll take it,” you reply, the hope within you energizing you further.

“Alright, let me just bring over the ultrasound machine, señorita.” Luis says, walking over to the opposite side of the room.

Your tired eyes watch him attentively, feeling Ada place her hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it.

“Alright! Let’s say hello to little Kennedy, shall we?” Luis says, his tone cheerful as he positions the machine next to your bed before powering it on.

You watch Luis take out a bottle of gel, using his other hand to lift your shirt over your swollen belly. He rubs the gel onto your belly, the cold gel causing you to flinch slightly. Grabbing the wand for the ultrasound machine, he presses it into your belly, moving it around slowly while watching the screen. At first, you don’t really see anything on the screen but then suddenly, you see her.

The clear image of your unborn child comes up onto the monitor; your eyes frantically searching for anything that would appear off about her. You weren’t sure what to expect; a tail… claws… but you see neither of those things. For all you knew, she looked like a normal, healthy baby. Your gaze shifts over to Luis, who has a subtle smile on his lips.

“The baby is almost to term and no sign of late stage infestation; I truly believe if we deliver soon, we have a chance of safely extracting the plaga from your child,” Luis explains, a hint of hope in his voice.

“That’s great, let’s deliver right away!” you ask, your tone eager.

“That’s the thing…” Ada interjects, “Tricell needs you to do something for them before Luis can deliver your baby, remove the plaga from them and from you.”

Your heart immediately sinks, your hand unconsciously rubbing your belly despite it still being covered in that gel, “Like… what…?”

“We need your help to lure Leon into Tricell custody. We can’t have him running amok any longer and risk him killing and infecting more people. Can you do that for us?”

Of course they’re using you as bait…

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and mulling over your options. If you don’t agree to this, the only thing that awaits you and your unborn child is death. You truly have no other choice.

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

He watches her through the spaces of the grocery store rack, his body tingling with excitement; so much so he can barely contain himself. He was also doing his best to hide his presence from her, but with the sun beginning to set, that was becoming increasingly difficult. Her back is facing him as she browses the breakfast cereal aisle, completely oblivious to the azure eyes watching her every move from behind the grocery aisle behind her.

His eyes remain locked on her as she turns to the right, walking out of the aisle carrying a small basket full of various items. She walks up to the cash register, paying for her items before leaving the store, making sure to hang back quite a bit to avoid being seen. He watches her climb into a small sedan and he gets into his “borrowed” car, following behind the sedan as it pulls out of the parking lot.

Again, he tries to remain a decent distance away as to not raise her suspicions; but now that he is in the comfort of his own vehicle, he allows himself to let loose, the inky veins spreading across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson, softly glowing in the low light inside his car.

The sun has completely set by the time he watches his quarry pull into a hotel parking lot, parking his car in such a way so he can watch her car and the front door of the hotel. He watches her get out of the car, carrying a grocery bag in one hand. His breath hitches upon seeing her pregnant form.

“Daddy gets to see you soon, Nora…” he says softly to himself, his grasp tightening on the steering wheel.

Closing his eyes, he focuses his thoughts on you, penetrating your mind with ease; his gift almost having its hold on you completely.

T̷̨̠͚̜͖͂̈́͌̋͗h̷̛̗̮̘̖̰̊͝e̴̛̯̐ ̶̫͇̻̱͑̾͘͠ṛ̸̡̘̒̔̑͠͝ͅͅo̷̝̅͐̔̑͠ö̴͖̙̺́̍͌̀͠m̶̖̭̈́̽̊͜ ̸̟̣̰̉̊͆i̴̢̓̓̚͘͝s̴͕̮͛̅̔̽.̶͖̙̜̏͘.̴̨̼̣̑̈́͝.̵̲͓̫̫̔ ̶͙̓̅y̷̧̞̓̂ë̶͙́̑͛̂̚s̸̠̊͌ ̷̧̨̕ͅI̶̢͓̼̲̍̅̀́ ̵̰͌̔͐́c̵̩̹̻̀̈̈́h̶̹͓͎̣͛̈́͝ë̷͔̦̮̮c̵͕͑̀͐ḱ̴̹͕̃ ̷̯̈͠o̵̱̺̩͔͎͆̈́͘u̸̝̳͆̋̓͂t̷͔̪͚̮̤͑͂̂̋̑.̷͕̈́̾͘.̶͙͔̖͈̈́̅̋.̶͔̥̤̩̖́͐̈͊͂ ̷̩̪͖̮̈́͜ȓ̸̜̒͛͑͝ǒ̷̹̲͇̏̀͋o̵̦̖̻̬͂͌m̶̯̒͋̀̂ ̵̛̝̙̰̇̉̀͘1̶̤͕̤̌̅̐͝0̶̻͚̰̝̤͐0̸̛͈͈̖͖́̓͘͝6̵͎̥͊͠?̸̛͎͕̜̊̂̚͠ ̷̘̉͋̈T̵̞̋̇̋ḩ̸̺̄͊͠ȃ̷͕͈̪n̴̠̙͂̈́̀́̄k̷̛͈͙̂̌ ̶͎͓͖̌͝ͅỳ̴͕̬̳̖o̸̫̪͉̜̅͜-̴̗̞͆̍̀̇-̴̢̹̣͂͐̊

A smirk crosses his lips as he withdraws from her mind. Now that he has your room number, getting inside should be simple. He waits another couple of hours before making his move. Getting out of his car, the inky veins no longer visible, he nonchalantly walks into the hotel, walking right up to the front desk to a tired looking receptionist. He glances over to the clock; it’s 11:00pm.

“Hi there,” he begins, leaning against the front desk, “my wife checked in a few hours ago. I broke down on my way here so I wasn’t able to meet her here like we originally planned. I imagine she’s sleeping now and I don’t want to wake her; think I can get a copy of the key?”

The receptionist lets out a loud sigh, rubbing her temples, “what’s the room number, mister?”

“1006.”

He watches the receptionist dig inside a drawer before pulling a key out that has a tag on it with 1006 printed on it, “here you are, enjoy your stay…”

“Thank you very much,” Leon says cheerfully as he swipes the key from her before walking over to the elevator, hitting the up button.

The elevator doors open and he steps inside, hitting the button for the 10th floor, putting his hands in his denim pockets as the elevator ascends. The doors open and he steps into the hallway, quickly finding room 1006. Putting the key into the door knob, he turns it slowly and enters the dark room, quietly closing the door behind him.

As he had suspected, she’s sleeping soundly in the king size bed on her side, facing away from the door. A smile appears on his lips as he approaches the bed, sitting down onto it and gently caressing your arm with the tips of his fingers. She stirs, rolling over to see what he can only assume are his soft glowing red eyes. She inhales deeply to scream, and he slaps his hand over her mouth, pressing his index finger to his lips, softly shushing her.

“Hey, hey, hey… I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassures her, “there’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.”

He watches her gaze shift to her arms, now sprawling with the dark veins. She starts to hyperventilate, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, using his thumb to wipe away her tears.

“Please don’t cry, I promise you, it’s going to be ok. The gift will bring us closer together, I assure you.”

“B-But…” you stammer, her eyes locking onto his, completely enveloped in fear, “I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

“Oh sweetheart…” he says with a sigh, shifting closer to her and wrapping his arms around her, giving a soft kiss to the top of her head and he runs his fingers through her hair, “I’ll do all the hunting for us, you don’t need to worry about hurting anyone.”

He places his hand on her belly, feeling his unborn child stir from his touch, instantly warming his heart.

“Look at you, growing our baby girl so well. So beautiful…” he coos, lifting your chin with his fingers before kissing you deeply.

He gently coaxes her to lay onto the bed. Sitting up on his knees momentarily, he pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside before he then begins to remove the rest of his clothing. Once nude he cages her body with his own, the parasitic veins sprawling and pulsing across his skin as he gently removes her clothing as well.

“Let me show you how beautiful our gift is, angel,” he purrs, gently pulling your legs apart.

He wastes no time propping her legs onto his shoulders, practically diving into her pussy, running his tongue over her slit, stopping on her clit to suck the sensitive bud. He feels her thighs quiver on his shoulders and before long, he can hear her soft moans fill the room; music to his ears.

Letting out a low growl into her clit, he brings his hand up to gently stroke her slit before pushing two fingers inside her, curving them upwards. Her hips buck upwards in response, her entire body tensing up. He watches in delight as the veins on her skin grow darker, the gift further ensnaring her.

With a loud moan, he feels her come undone on his fingers, her juices heavily coating his fingers. He pulls them out, licking his fingers clean before he proceeds to climb onto her. As he settles his hips between her legs, his tail snakes out from his lower back, gently moving from side to side. He watches your eyes widen in fear, but he quickly brings his hands to her cheeks, gently caressing them.

“Please… don’t be afraid, angel,” he coos as he sheathes himself inside her.

In that instant, his back claws burst from his back, acting as a cage around her as he begins to thrust into her slowly. He stares down at her longingly, one of his hands gently caressing her belly. With each thrust, he increases the speed and intensity. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back and letting out a low groan as he inches closer and closer to his release.

The sound of a gun cocking, followed quickly by the feeling of a barrel being pressed into the back of his skull causes him to stop instantly. A low growl emanates from the back of his throat, his lips twitching and curling into a snarl as his eyes slowly open. He doesn’t even need to turn around to see who it is pointing a gun at the back of his head.

Ada Wong.

“Well, well, well… that’s one hell of a greeting,” Leon practically snarls, “couldn’t even wait until I came, fucking bitch.”

“Wow, when did you become such a prick, Leon?” Ada replies, the smirk on her face audible in her voice.

“The moment you discarded my gift, Ada,” he replies, another growl coming out of him, “what do you want?”

“Come quietly, that’s all I ask,” she says simply, pushing the gun into his head harder.

“Let me guess, you told my angel that you were with the BSAA, didn’t you?” Leon says, a smirk crossing his lips, “why don’t you tell her who you’re really working for.”

“Don’t listen to him,” she snaps, “it’s the parasite talking, he’s full of shit.”

“Ada…” his angel says softly, her gaze shifting over to Ada, “what is he talking about…?”

“Really Ada? How long have we known each other?”

“Are you going to cooperate or not, Leon? Stop wasting time.”

Leon sighs heavily, pulling himself out of his angel, his plaga appendages receding back into his body as he stands up straight, “If I go with you, promise me whoever you’re working for won’t hurt my baby.”

At first, Ada doesn’t respond, but he hears her exhale, “I can promise it won’t be intentionally killed, how about that?”

“Fine. Let me get my clothes back on.”

Arms and legs chained together and a crude metal mask covering the lower half of his face, Leon is led through the halls of Tricell Laboratories like some kind of wild animal. The armed guards lead him into a solid white observation room. On the back wall, there are shackles which are promptly put on his arms and legs upon being brought to them. The chains and mask are then removed and the guards quickly leave.

To Leon’s relief, they don’t have any UV lights on, so he allows himself to relax a little, his dark veins sprawling across his skin and his eyes shifting to crimson. For hours, he leans against the wall, unconsciously licking his upper canines and shifting on his feet occasionally.

Please let my angel and Nora be ok… he thinks to himself, closing his eyes.

The sound of the door across from him opening snaps him from his thoughts. He opens his eyes, immediately narrowing them upon seeing who has entered the room. He begins to growl.

“Derek Simmons… what on Earth are you doing here?”

“My, my… how the mighty have fallen,” Derek begins, standing several feet in front of Leon, crossing his arms and letting out a low chuckle, “it’s been awhile, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

“Answer the fucking question, Simmons!” Leon growls.

“I wouldn’t say working with him, it’s more like we both have a mutual interest in your condition. Wesker’s hopes are that the DNA extracted from you will help with his Uroboros project,” Derek explains, mindlessly spinning the large ring on his left thumb.

“Officially? I’m here to oversee your execution. Off the record, however, I’m here to watch you suffer as you become Wesker’s little pet project.”

“You’re working with Wesker?!”

“The fuck is Uroboros?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him yourself. Like I said, I just want to see you suffer, Agent Kennedy.”

“Fucking bastard…” Leon mutters to himself, glaring at him, feeling the plaga within him writhe in rage, begging to be unleashed, “what are they going to do with my angel and my daughter?”

“For starters, they’re going to attempt to extract the plaga from your unborn child, which will be used to further assist in Wesker’s ambitions, then, I believe the plan is to rid your darling ‘angel’ of your so-called ‘gift.’ She’s quite pretty, that one. I must say you sure know how to pick them, Leon.”

“You so much as lay a hair on her…”

“And you’ll what? You’re trapped here, Leon. Trapped like the fucking animal you are! You’re so pathetic, you’re not even half the man that lovely young lady deserves,” Derek taunts him, a sinister grin on his lips.

“Oh really?” Leon growls once more, his fists clenching.

He rushes forward, catching himself on his restraints, now within inches of Simmons. His tail bursts out of his back, taking a swing at Simmons’ neck, however he was able to take another step back to avoid the hit just in time. His back claws then burst from his back, his hands transforming into dark claws as he continues to fight against the shackles keeping him restrained. The sound of metal bending reverberates throughout the room as he further transforms. Leon lets out a loud roar, showing off his large and sharp incisors before his lower jaw splits in half, mandibles coming out of his mouth and his tongue elongated.

“How about now, Simmons?” Leon replies, his voice rough and distorted due to his transformation.

Simmons’ smug expression quickly morphs into one of concern as he continues to move away from Leon. The sound of metal breaking echoes in the room and in an instant, Leon pounces on Simmons, the sound of the chains dragging behind him.

“God dammit someone get in here and get him off me! He’s gonna-- ACK!”

Leon wastes no time in ripping out Simmons’ throat, his long tongue lapping up the blood hemorrhaging from his neck. Guards then come swarming in, firing several shots of tranquilizers into him. It takes a couple minutes for it to take effect on him. He knows they’ll punish him for this but it was worth it to finally get back at Simmons for accusing him of murdering the president some time ago, a B.O.W. attack perpetrated by Simmons himself that killed the president and resulted in the deaths of 70,000 innocent townsfolk. That was when Leon had gone on the run; Simmons had found out Leon was still infected with Las Plagas and used him as a scapegoat.

Leon closes his eyes as his face shifts back to normal, slumping onto the ground as he loses consciousness.

The loud cries of a newborn pull you from unconsciousness, your eyes fluttering open. Your eyes shift around the room before settling on the baby in Luis’ arms, caked in your blood and who knows what other fluids.

“Would you look at that, a healthy baby girl!” Luis exclaims, grabbing a towel from one of the lab assistants and wrapping the baby in it.

Luis walks over to you, you weakly hold your arms out to your baby, cradling her in your arms as Luis hands her off to you. She calms down instantly, you suspect because of the plaga you both share still. She has Leon’s blonde hair, however her eyes are still shut so you’re unsure what color her eyes are yet.

“Alright, I’ve got to take her to remove that pesky plaga,” he says before motioning to his assistant, “you know what to do. Get her stitched up and bring her to the removal machine and blast that plaga into hell.”

Nervousness quickly grabs hold of you, knowing there was a chance your baby would not survive the procedure, but Luis seemed very confident it could be done, so you have no choice but place your faith in him.

“Got a name picked out yet?” Luis asks, smiling warmly at you.

You look over at your baby, sleeping soundly in Luis’ arms, a warm feeling enveloping you as you reply, “her name is Nora.”

“Well then, little Nora, let’s go get that bug out of you, shall we?” Luis says to Nora as he carries her out of the room.

The assistant sews up the incision made to perform the c-section to remove your baby in record time before wheeling your bed out into the hallway. You’re then brought into a darkened room and you see a machine with a laser like apparatus on it. The assistant rolls your bed beneath the machine, positioning the arm of the laser at your chest.

“I’m going to warn you, this is going to be extremely painful. You most likely will faint. Let me know when you’re ready, ok?”

You take a couple of deep breaths, doing your best to calm your nerves before you finally nod, “I’m ready.”

The assistant flips a couple switches and you hear the machine whirl to life. Within seconds there’s a bright flash and then you feel what has to be the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life. You let out a blood curdling scream, your hands gripping the arms on your bed so tight that your hands cramp up. Your eyes then roll into the back of your head and you pass out into a dreamless sleep.

Luis is holding up the plaga extracted from Nora, the procedure having been a success as he had anticipated. The child and her mother now resting together in one of the rooms. He looks perplexed as he examines it, turning the glass container that it’s being kept in.

“What’s the matter Dr. Sera?” one of his assistants asks, noticing the look on Luis’ face.

“I feel like something is off about this specimen. Like something is missing,” Luis replies, rubbing his chin with his fingers in the opposite hands as he continues to examine the plaga.

“We triple checked Dr. Sera, the entire plaga was extracted from the child. You have nothing to worry about,” his assistant reassures him.

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking, that’s all…” Luis replies, setting the container down onto his desk before walking towards the door, “let’s go get some celebratory drinks, drinks’er on me.”

On his desk next to the container is a diagram of the Las Plagas parasite, each part meticulously labeled. If one were to closely inspect this diagram and the parasite in the container, they would realize that the diagram had something the specimen did not:

A head.

December 25th, 1998… Ten years later…

You watch as Nora rips open her last Christmas present, your smile going from ear to ear as you hold your coffee to your lips. Nora gasps upon seeing the PlayStation logo on the box.

“No… shut up! No you didn’t, Mom!” Nora exclaims, ripping off the rest of the wrapping paper.

Other things were wrapped with the game console; a game and a memory card.

“You got me Spyro the Dragon! Thank you so much, Mom! Best Christmas ever!”

Nora jumps up from the floor, rushing over and throwing her arms around you to hug you tight.

“You’re welcome Nora, Merry Christmas,” you reply, kissing her cheek, “you deserve it. You’ve done so well in school this year.”

Nora steps back, her blue eyes gleaming with joy; Leon’s blue eyes. Everything about Nora reminds you of Leon, as heartbreaking as that is.

He’s right where he needs to be though… where he can’t hurt anyone anymore…

“Can I hook it up on the living room TV and play it, Mom? Pretty pleeeeeaaaassseee?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart,” you reply as you stand up from the dining table.

“Yay! Thanks, Mom!” Nora exclaims, scooping up the PlayStation, the game and the memory card and bringing them into the living room.

You let out a playful chuckle, walking over to your phone, picking it up off the charger and dialing a number. After a few rings a familiar voice answers.

“Hello?” your mother says.

“Hey Mom! It’s me!” you reply, “Merry Christmas! I wanted to thank you for helping me get that PlayStation for Nora. She absolutely loved it.”

“Oh good! You’re welcome sweetie! How’s the weather down in Florida today?” she asks.

“A beautiful 70 degrees,” you reply with a smile, “moving here was the best decision ever. Nora loves it down here.”

“Oh that sounds lovely! I’ll have to get down to visit soon. It’s snowing up here today, your step-father is out shoveling the walkway.”

“Oh yeah! How are things going with you and Darren? I can’t wait to meet him!”

“You’re going to love him, he’s got a great personality, really funny. The other day--”

You jump when you hear a sudden knock on the door, “sorry to cut you off, Mom, but I’ve got someone at the door. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“No problem, sweetheart, talk to you soon! Love you, bye!”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye!”

You hang up the phone, placing it back on the charger before walking up to your door and opening it. Standing outside is a woman you haven’t seen in a couple years, her black hair framing her face perfectly. She’s wearing a simple red tank top and denim jeans with knee high boots. You notice a 9mm strapped to her right leg.

“Ada! Merry Christmas!” you exclaim, giving her a hug, which she returns without hesitation.

“Merry Christmas, can I come in?” Ada asks.

“Of course you can, let me make you some coffee. Have a seat,” you reply as you motion to the dining table.

“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Ada says as she sits down at the table.

After you make her a cup, you hand it to her before sitting across from her at the table.

“How are you and Nora doing?” Ada asks, sipping on her coffee.

“Really well. Nora’s currently in the living room hooking up the PlayStation my Mom and I got her for Christmas. She’s doing well in school, she’s made friends. She’s a perfectly normal 10 year old. As for me, I just have a scar on my chest and that’s it, no adverse side effects as far as I can tell.”

Ada nods, “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You can tell her voice is strained, clearly something is wrong, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You have that 50 caliber that I gave you, right?” Ada asks.

“Yes… why…?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ada begins her explanation, “Two days ago, Tricell was transporting Leon to a new facility in Washington state when…”

Ada trails off, her gaze looking into the living room where Nora is happily playing her game, the sounds of the game softly traveling into the kitchen and dining room area. Ada lets out another sigh before continuing, “when he escaped; killing several people in the process.”

You let out a soft gasp, your heart jumping up into your throat.

“Don’t worry, the chances of him finding you are slim, this happened way out in Idaho. But I wanted to tell you nonetheless, as a precaution.”

“Right…” you reply, nodding subtly; your stomach is twisting in knots.

Ada grabs a piece of paper and a pen that are on your table, jotting down a phone number before handing it to you, “this is my cell phone number, if you hear, see or experience anything strange, you need to call me, ok?”

“Of course,” you reply as you motion to take the slip of paper, however Ada’s hands encase yours.

“Promise me that if you see him, you take that gun and you do not hesitate. Shoot to kill, understand?”

You take a couple of deep breaths before replying, “Yes, I understand.”

Later that night, you are tucking Nora into bed, covering her up with a beautiful floral quilt that your mom had made for her a couple of birthdays ago. She smiles up at you as you cover her up.

“This was the best Christmas ever, thank you Mom,” she says.

You gently run your fingers through her blonde hair, smiling down at her, “and you are most welcome, Nora. I’m glad you had such a good Christmas. Now, it’s time to get some sleep, ok?”

“Ok Mom!”

You lean over to turn off her bedside lamp getting up from where you were crouched next to the bed and walking to her bedroom door.

You’re at the threshold when Nora once again speaks up, “Daddy says he loves us.”

You immediately stop in your tracks, turning around slowly to look over at Nora, “wh… what did you just say?”

You must not have heard her correctly…

“I saaaid, Daddy loves us. He told me so.”

Your eyes widen and your heart is racing in your chest, “when did he tell you so, Nora?”

“Today,” she replies simply, her smile wide.

“O-Ok… good night, Nora…”

“Good night Mom,” Nora says, rolling over to face away from the door.

You walk out of her bedroom, locking and closing the door softly before proceeding to your own bedroom, closing and locking yourself in. You decide you’ll call Ada first thing in the morning. You’re hoping it’s just Nora’s imagination running wild again. But then again, Nora has never mentioned anything about Leon before now. You tuck yourself into bed, quickly falling asleep to the sound of the crickets outside.

That is, until a loud thumping sound wakes you out of a dead sleep, startling you. At first, you think it is just the remnants of a nightmare, until you hear the sound again. It’s definitely coming from inside the house. You open the drawer in your bedside table, pulling out the Desert Eagle that Ada had asked you about earlier in the day before climbing out of bed. You brought it to the local gun range to practice shooting with it once a week since you got it making sure you’d be able to handle it if the time ever came to use it.

You check to make sure it’s loaded and that the safety is off before slowly unlocking your bedroom door and stepping out into the hallway. Your first instinct is to check on Nora, maybe she had just gotten up to go to the bathroom. You slowly make your way to the bedroom, unlocking the door with a key in your pocket and quietly opening it. Nora is sound asleep, it definitely wasn’t her making the noise. You gently shut the door, locking it once more.

You hear the sound again from behind you, you turn quickly and aim your gun, but there is nothing there. Lowering your gun, you walk slowly down the hallway which leads out to the kitchen and dining room. You take a peek into the living room, thankfully not seeing anything, just the PlayStation sitting on the floor where Nora had left it. Confident that there’s nothing in the house, you turn to walk down the hallway to go back to bed.

However, you see a shadow cast from the lights of the Christmas tree of four insect-like appendages extending outwards, followed by a long tail, the shadow is also taller than you. Your breaths are ragged as you stop and slowly turn around, the gun clenched in your hands. Sure enough, you find Leon standing behind you, a soft smile on his lips that is barely visible in the low light.

It’s clear that he has aged, but admittedly he’s aged like a fine wine, still retaining his handsome features that first lured you to him in the first place. He is wearing a blue leather jacket with a black shirt underneath with denim jeans and work boots. His eyes glowing a soft red in the low light and the plaga black veins sprawling over his exposed skin.

“Merry Christmas, angel,” Leon says, his voice as smooth as whiskey, “you are as beautiful as the day I lost you, if not more. I’ve missed you both so much.”

You swallow hard, your feelings conflicted. You missed him too, terribly. There is still a part of you that loved him; you knew deep down there is still good in him; he would have been an amazing father to your daughter.

Leon continues, “how is Nora? Can I see her?”

You take a deep breath before shaking your head, raising the Desert Eagle to aim it right between his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Leon.”

You pull the trigger.

‘Glitch’ Text translation:

“Where are you?”

“I am going to find you.”

“The room is… yes I check out… room 1006? Thank yo--”

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize that this took so long to put out. I want to dedicate this part to my lovely friends @nexysworld @explorevenus @kaitkatme and @dollfacefantasy. They’re always supportive and have always been there for me when I needed it most and for that I am so incredibly grateful. I have made so many beautiful friends in the Resident Evil fandom. This fic is still one I am incredibly proud of and had so much fun writing it. Thank you for joining me on this incredible ride! I hope it is worth the wait

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vampire!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes #he comes alive

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blackopals-world · 5 months

Text

For my Art

Jamil Viper x fem Dancer!Yuu

Venting from a former ballerina

The ballet was everything.

It is is your life.

Your reason to move.

To dance.

It will take your blood, your sweat, and your tears.

This is not a metaphor.

Yuu engraved these words in her heart from the moment her instructor said them to her at the age of 8. She had started later then her peers and had to catch up.

They had already started graduating to pionte shoes.

Those beautiful shoes.

Silk, pastel pink, the one thing that would make their fairytale ballerina dreams come true.

Now they were her's.

Now it was real.

She would be the next Primadonna. The star.

But heavy will be the head to wear that crown. The beautiful feathered headpiece.

She had to train harder.

She had to dance till her arms and legs bruised turning purple and red. That's what makeup is for.

She danced while her feet bled and ached. Her teacher told her it would make her stronger.

She would stand before the other girls and be weighed and measured. Her every imperfection was pointed out.

Because a ballerina was perfect.

Graceful

Delicate

Effortless

Gorgeous

Perfect

And she wanted to be perfect. Needed it.

She would do what it took. To achieve that dream. Break herself if needed. It was all for she sake of dancing on that stage.

Another grueling practice ended as a guest arrived at the studio.

"Hey, Jamil. You're here early." She said wiping the sweat off very brow with a hand towel from her bag.

"I was hoping to see you practice since basketball practice ended early." Jamil said taking a drink from his water bottle.

Yuu smiled as she bent to take off her slippers, wincing due to her sore feet.

Jamil's eyes were drawn to the scene, his eyes widened.

Unmistakable red marks stained the shoes as Yuu sucked in a breath and dig into their bag for her first aid kit.

"You're hurt!" He exclaimed bending down to examine the wound. "What happened?".

"What do you mean?" she said tilting her head to the side. "It's normal."

"Nothing about this is normal. Your bleeding! Especially not from dancing. You need to take a break" Jamil said taking the bandages to wrap the wound.

Just a quickly he was shoved back as Yuu took the bandages back.

"I can do it myself." She said coldly "I've done this for years. Honestly, what do you know?"

"Enough to know that you're hurt and that's all I need to know," Jamil said strained.

"Butt out!"She yelled before stealing herself "Look I'm not mad at you but you don't get to tell me what I should do. You're not my father and you're not my boyfriend."

Jamil tried to respond feeling his cheeks burn but was stopped.

"You don't know what ballet even is. What it takes. Blood, sweat, and tears. I can't afford to waste time. It's a cut-throat world, Jamil. My form must be perfect!" Yuu said adamant.

"Why are you so set on this!" He yelled trying to find sense in this argument.

"BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT!" Yuu screamed at the top of her lungs.

And just like that it was said. She fell silent her chest heaving, tears in her eyes, and her lips twisted in a frown.

"I...don't have time." She said again quieter. Sadder.

"Time for what." Jamil lowered his voice too.

"Ballet isn't forever. Girls don't last for long. You're prime is only a few years, and then the roles dry up. You're body changes as you get older. They don't want that. You're body doesn't last either." Yuu said sadly.

Ballet is a bloody industry and you must do what you must to survive.

It starts so innocent and pure. Little pink tutus and leotards to eating disorders and chronic pain.

But little girls still dream of the stage.

"So you'll break yourself to do it? Don't you care about yourself." Jamil asked taking her hand.

Yuu sighed and looked away. She couldn't look him in the eye.

"I don't know..." She said finally.

Yuu had never felt good enough. She never saw herself as worth much.

"It's okay, I'll show you that your more then you think. You matter to me. Even if you don't see your worth, I do." Jamil said hold her hand to his chest.

#dancer!yuu #twst jamil #jamil viper x reader #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil x reader #jamil viper #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu

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areyoudoingthis · 6 months

Text

"So," Ed says while the crew gets the ship ready for Lucius and Pete's matelotage ceremony, shyly swaying his shoulder as he leans towards Stede in what is rapidly becoming Stede's favorite bit of Ed body language. "Zheng's offer."

And Stede hears the question he isn't asking. Hears the plea this time, too. This time he isn't drunk and coming off the high of being worshipped for killing a man to protect his loved ones. The renewed threat on their lives and watching Ed sob brokenly while Izzy died in his arms have sobered him up fast, instilled a new understanding of the way Ed views piracy in him and rearranged his priorities one more time. He thought he had this right when he left Barbados. No matter, he'll keep learning as he goes, keep listening and trying his best to do right by himself and by Ed.

"You wanted to become a fisherman." Ed winces. Stede doesn't hold a drop of resentment towards him, understands how easy it is to panic when faced with something as immense as what they share while the burdens of their pasts still plague them.

"I think I wasn't as well suited to fishing as a I thought," Ed says, ruefully.

"Nonsense. You're great at fishing." He beams at him, knows that Ed is capable of excelling at anything he sets his mind to. But it doesn't have to be fishing, it can be anything they choose. There's a whole world of possibilities open before them now. "What if we explored a different avenue?" he suggests.

Ed's eyes open wide, excited. Stede knows he's on the right track, the way his heart settles in his chest at the look in Ed's eyes tells him he can't go wrong if he follows this instinct for the rest of his days.

"Yeah? Like what?" He sounds impatient to get started.

"I remember you expressing an interest in becoming a restauranter once?"

"Eh, the food industry might be a tad too much work. We'd have to catch the food first, then cook it and serve all the customers..." he looks bashful, like there's something on the tip of his tongue that he's hesitant to speak out loud. "What if-?"

"Yes?" Stede asks, quiet and a little breathless with anticipation. His blood is thrumming, he wants to take this leap with Ed with every fiber of his being, is leagues more eager for this than he was when he first commissioned a ship and set off to sea.

"What about an inn?"

The memory flashes through his mind of Ed gifting a couple of kids on the Republic a bag of gold and a pair of knives, and claiming they weren't pirates but inn owners afterwards. How long has he been thinking about this? How long has this been a dream of his?

"Sounds fun." He smiles, radiant. He's thrilled to join Ed on their next adventure, inn ownership or fishing or bar and grill management. He would go anywhere with him.

"Yeah?" Ed sounds exhilarated too.

"Yes."

And there isn't an ounce of hesitancy in his voice this time around. He knows himself at last, knows the bottomless capacity for loving Ed his heart possesses, doesn't intend to ever let him go again.

Ed leans forward as if he intends to kiss him and Stede's heart starts beating faster, always greedy for Ed. But Ed stops, pauses halfway to Stede and looks doubtful all of a sudden.

"What about this?"

"This?"

"The ship. The crew. Piracy." Stede thinks he means the last one most of all. And god, what a fool he was to almost lose this to a fantasy. What he set out for a lifetime ago wasn't piracy, it was a dream of freedom and a place where he could be himself. He's never more himself than when he's standing next to Ed, looking the future in the eye together. This is his home, where his body and soul belong forever. The ship will continue to house their family and carry them safely across the sea, and they'll come back to visit as much as they want to. He can't wait to see what they get up to, either.

"You're the only adventure I need, Ed."

And Ed melts into his arms and kisses him sweetly.

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #ofmd spoilers #here have this drabble as a treat because I'm drowing in feelings #my fic

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agustdakasuga · 10 months

Text

The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 5

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning: Incident of stalking and the topic/ threat of potential suicide is brought up.

The rest of the weekend was, thankfully, less eventful for you. You could catch up on much needed sleep and finish a ton of university work, even advance assignments that weren’t taught yet. Now you were in front of your computer, looking at university majors.

“Just pick a major, (y/n). Why are you having such a hard time?!” You scolded yourself. The ‘narrowed’ list you made was far from small, there were still too many options to choose from.

‘Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange’

You found yourself typing out on the search engine. Many articles popped up, all singing different praises and words of adoration for the organisation.

“Charity funding... Sponsorships... Donations...” You briefly read through the some of the articles that listed what your father did. There he was, a picture of your dad, standing in the middle of the 7 men that you now know about.

“Acquainted with government officials and the president. Good relations all around.” You read outloud.

Considering how well known your father was, you were surprised you had never noticed his name in the news before to connect the dots that this man was your father. There was little said about the 7 though, only that they are your father’s ‘protogés’ or ‘apprentices’, trained to take over the company after your father retires as the head.

‘Park Jimin will be representing Bangtan Enterprise & Exchange in the high stakes charity poker game. There will be many other figureheads in attendance. Winnings will go to the winner’s charity of choice.’

“Wow, they are everywhere.” Your eyes widened. The company had a stake and connection in every industry. You did so much reading, you hadn’t realised that it was dinner time.

“What should I eat?” In the end, you ordered food for pick up at a nearby restaurant since they didn’t do delivery.

“Here you go. Enjoy your food and stay safe!” The old lady gave you the plastic bag of containers. With a grateful smile and a bow, you took the food and left to go home. It was Sunday night and you really didn’t want to be out of the house.

Jimin hummed as he straightened up, twirling his keys around his fingers. He poked his head out of the alley before he emerged. He adjusted his hair and straightened his suit jacket.

“How long more are you going to check your appearance?” Hoseok drove over, stopping his car right in front of Jimin, one arm perched on the door while the other stayed on the steering wheel. Jimin rolled his eyes but walked over, sitting in the passenger seat.

“You got it?” Hoseok asked.

“Did you seriously just ask me if I got it? Of course I got it.” Jimin waved the access card in front of Hoseok’s face. Hoseok snatched it, tucking it into the back pocket of his pants.

“Now where’s my stuff?” Jimin held his hands out like a child waiting for candy. The older reached into the back seat and tossed him something.

“Thank you~” Jimin grinned triumphantly. Unlike the others, Jimin was the first one to try Hoseok’s new shipment of weapons through this deal. He looked at the new pistol with modifications made and designed by Namjoon.

“This new silencer is supposed to be better and not affect the accuracy as much. Namjoon and his team tested it for ages.” Hoseok said.

“Well, he can use it after me.” Jimin smirked, pretending to aim the gun in front of him.

RINGGGGGG

“Taehyung, why are you calling? We’re on the way home.” Hoseok asked as he drove. Jimin threw in a greeting as well.

“Hyung!! You need to go help (y/n) right now! She called me all panicked, saying that she was being followed and then her phone died! She was coming from (restaurant name) so she should be along that path!”

“Okay, Taehyung! I’ll keep you updated.” Hoseok said and hung up. He stepped on the accelerator immediately, lurching the car forward in the direction of where you lived. Jimin pursed his lips, opting not to say anything and just follow along. It wasn’t his car anyway. Hoseok used the voice navigation to find where the restaurant was.

“How are we going to know where she is exactly?” Jimin asked.

“There aren’t too many streets, it’s one path. You wanted a reason to use your new gun, right?” Hoseok stopped the car. Jimin followed alongside Hoseok as they looked for you.

“(y/n)?!” Hoseok yelled out. Jimin heard footsteps and hushed Hoseok. He leaned into an alleyway and found a masked person with a cap walking around.

“What are you looking for?” Jimin pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of the person’s head. The unknown person visibly froze in his tracks, putting his hands up. Hoseok ran forward and found you hiding.

“(y/n)...” He looked at your traumatised, scared form. You had your knees drawn to your chest.

“H-Help.” You whimpered.

“I’ve got it, hyung. Call it... target practice. I’ll come home later.” Jimin sighed. Hoseok nodded, putting his jacket over your shoulders. He put his arms under you and hoisted you up.

“I’ll see you at home. Let’s go, (y/n).” Hoseok whispered. You tucked your head against his chest and Hoseok could feel you shaking in fear in his arms. He placed you in his car but was unsure of whether he should be taking you home or back to the boys’ house.

“(y/n), listen to me. You’re safe now. That person won’t find you, they won’t come after you. They can’t hurt you.” Hoseok spoke. You nodded your head slowly, not really processing what he was really saying.

“Do you want to go to your own home? Either way, I will stay with you to make sure you are not alone.” Hoseok promised.

“Please take me somewhere safe.” You requested.

“Okay.” Hoseok made the decision to take you to their home. You would definitely be safe and protected there with all of them home. He had informed the others of the arrangement.

“We’re here.” He pulled up in the driveway. You were so far gone that you didn’t notice the scale of the estate. It was a huge mansion.

With his arm around you, Hoseok slowly guided you into the house. He tossed his keys to the valet to park for him. The others had gotten the maids ready to welcome you to the house. But they stayed away to not overwhelm you further. The maids were all kind, receiving you gently and moving you up to the guest room. You just followed their lead quietly.

“How is she?” Namjoon asked.

“Scared, traumatised. I don’t know, I just removed her from the situation. Jimin is handling the guy.” Hoseok informed, falling back onto the lounge chair with a long sigh. Yoongi handed him a glass of whiskey.

“Chim is just... gonna kill the guy. We won’t know why she was targeted in the first place.” Jin folded his arms.

“We probably know the reason why. Word spreads faster underground than above ground. This is going to be the first of many.” Jungkook rolled his eyes as he drank his beer.

“Is it that serious? So quickly?” Taehyung scratched his head.

“Come on, Tae. We have been in this world forever. People die faster than you can snap your fingers.” Yoongi said.

“Anyway, let’s keep things to a minimum now that she is here, alright? We will talk about this in the morning.” Namjoon stopped the conversation. This was too much for him, all of a sudden, to be able to process. As everyone split up, Hoseok slipped into Jin’s cave.

“Jimin got it?” Jin knew who it was without having to turn around. His fingers danced across his keyboard as he typed away.

“It’s Jimin. Of course, he got it. It’s all his effort, I was just the getaway. You’re lucky I had something to incentivise him to do the job so quickly.” Hoseok clicked his tongue as he waved the access card that Jimin obtained.

“Here.” He tossed it onto the table.

“Thanks, Hoseok. I knew I could count on Jimin... and you, I guess.” Jin said with a chuckle.

“No problem. But wait, hyung. You can hack anything, why do you need this specific access card? Looks like you can get into the system just like that.” Hoseok asked as he peeked at Jin’s screen.

“Well, in this case, the person is smart. I can crack this system easily but the creator has put a tracker on everything. Better to go in through the old fashion way, avoid suspicion.” Jin shrugged, reaching over to take a sip of his plum wine. Seeing as to how Hoseok was just snooping, Jin chased him out and locked the door behind him.

“Here. We have some clothes for you to wear comfortably.” One of the maids handed you a set of clothing. It was a pair of home shorts and a really oversized white shirt.

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Young master Hoseok said that you didn’t get to your dinner so we are bringing up a tray of hot food for you now.” She informed. You nodded your head and went to change in the bathroom.

“Have some tea in the mean time. It will help calm you down.” She handed you the mug. You took it with both hands.

“Thank you... Sorry, that has never happened to me so I guess I’m quite shaken.” You forced a smile. She shook his head, patting your back.

“Young miss. Here is your food. Please enjoy.” Another maid came in carrying a tray. She placed the tray on the small table and you sat down. The spread was luxurious.

“Don’t worry, young miss. You are safe here.”

“Do you want us to stay with you?” She offered. You shook your head with a grateful smile. With a deep bow, they retreated out of the room. You wrapped your arms around yourself. After your mum died, there was no one to hug and comfort you like she did.

Your brain was a mess, trying to find a reason as to why you would have been followed. You kept to yourself, never really interacting or making friends easily. The person could just be trying to rob you or steal your dinner.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You replied. Taehyung poked his head in before walking in.

“Hey, (y/n). Are you doing okay?” Taehyung asked. You nodded your head. His eyes trailed to your tray. Your cutlery was still tucked into the napkin, a sign that you hadn’t touched your food.

“It must have been scary. But don’t worry, the guy isn’t going to bother you anymore.” Taehyung assured.

“I was worried he might follow me and know where I live, that’s why I agreed to be brought here. But the police was able to get him?” You tilted your head, relief in your voice. Taehyung nodded his head.

“Jimin handed him over to the cops after he was apprehended.” He lied.

“Thank you. Sorry for imposing and making you guys go all the way to help me when I’ve been nothing but stand offish and unfriendly.” You lowered your head. Taehyung softened slightly, looking at you. It wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. He knew you couldn’t help it, it was the only way you could protect yourself when you’re alone.

“Don’t think about that now. You’ll be safe here, (y/n). I promise. You should just rest here for the night and I’ll take you home in the morning.” Taehyung said.

“Alright. Thank you again, Taehyung sshi.”

“Stop thanking us. Goodnight.” He got up and left the room. You sighed, mentally grateful for the fact that he didn’t force you to stay, even offering to take you home in the morning.

Jimin yawned as he entered the house, smoke escaping his mouth as he exhaled. He removed his blood stained sweater and tossed it onto the ground.

“Is it settled?”

“Yoongi hyung, surprised to see you awake. And yes, it is settled. It was one guy, easily handled.” Jimin greeted with a nod of his head. Yoongi hummed, swirling his drink in his glass. Jimin walked over, leaning against the bar.

“So do I get a prize for saving the damsel?” Jimin smirked. Yoongi scoffed at how Jimin treated this like a game.

“You don’t like her, do you?”

“Whether I like her or not doesn’t matter now, does it?” The younger asked back, going to pour rum into a fresh crystal glass then proceeding to take a long sip.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope you were able to take it out on the poor guy. If you don’t like her then don’t cross paths with her. She’s in the first guest room. Namjoon’s going to have us talk to her tomorrow but I’ll get you out of it.” Yoongi offered.

“Nah, I’m not a coward.” Jimin declined. He refilled Yoongi’s glass with more whiskey before refilling his own.

“You’re going to have to learn to work with her sooner or later. We all know she’s a walking target board and as frustrating and burdensome as it is, she’s our Achilles heel.” Yoongi pointed out.

“Goodnight, hyung.” Jimin left the bar area first.

When you woke up the next morning, you laid in bed for a while before loitering around the room. You were not sure what you were supposed to do, have you woken up too early or too late compared to the others that lived in the house?

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You dove back under the covers. It was the same maid from the night before. She poked her head in before bowing.

“Good morning, agashi. When you are ready, young master Namjoon has called for you to join them for breakfast. I have some clothes here for you.” She held the folded clothes in her hands. You nodded your head and got up to go brush your teeth. When you came out, the curtains had been drawn, the uneaten food cleared and the bed was made.

“I will be outside to take you to the dining room after you’ve changed. Please take your time.” She put her hands together and bowed again then retreated out of the room.

“Alright then.” You changed into the short sleeve white button up blouse and skirt that was prepared, simple but elegant in its own way.

“I’m ready. Thank you for waiting.” You came out, running your fingers through your hair once more.

“Right this way.” She gestured and started walking.

“This house is huge. Very easy to get lost without a guide.” You commented, looking at all the doors you walked past. The maid nodded in agreement with a giggle. You followed her down the grand staircase.

“The young masters that are awake are having their meal now.” The maid said, opening the french doors for you to enter the dining room.

“Good morning, (y/n).” Namjoon smiled.

“Good morning.” You bowed your head shyly and stepped in. The maid was behind you, closing the doors and leading you to your seat at the dining table. The butler pulled the chair out for you to sit down. You sat beside Namjoon, trying not to maintain eye contact with anyone at the table.

“A drink to start, agashi? We have tea, coffee, juices.” The butler offered.

“I’ll have a coffee, please. Umm... A cappuccino.” You ordered randomly. It wasn’t your more usual drink but you didn’t want to be an inconvenience. This was already all too much for you.

“I hope you slept well.” Taehyung smiled.

“I did... Thank you.” You spoke softly. The butler came and placed the breakfast tray in front of you.

“Thank you for the food.” You were still speaking softly, hoping that despite that, the butler could hear your gratefulness. You picked up your chopsticks and dug into the food. It was light and delicious, just what you needed.

The breakfast strangely felt normal. The boys chatted amongst themselves, normal chat, nothing really out of the normal. You guessed it was because they were still tired. You didn’t feel the right or need to participate in their chatter, focusing on the food on the tray in front of you. You wanted to just keep to yourself and avoid contact.

“(y/n), can we talk in the living room?” Taehyung requested when you were done with breakfast. You nodded your head, following behind them.

“Go wake Jimin, Jungkook and Hoseok.” Jin ordered the butler. He nodded with a bow and retreated upstairs to the bedrooms. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited.

“Morning.” Hoseok yawned as he walked over. Jungkook and Jimin sleepily shuffled over.

“Thank you again for last night. Really.” You stood up to bow to Hoseok and Jimin. You still didn’t really know all their names but you still felt the need to express your gratitude. The two blinked, unsure of how to react.

“(y/n), unfortunately, we believe that you were targeted for a reason last night. We’re unsure of why but if someone is really after you, they’re not going to stop.” Namjoon explained.

“I’m in danger?”

“Luckily Hoseok and Jimin could get to you in time. But it’s serious and we want to make sure you’re safe.” He continued. You nodded your head.

“We’ve discussed as brothers... We don’t want to force you into anything. But we know that we need to get along with one another. The other roles and responsibilities, the future of all of this, we can think about that later. We just take it one step at a time.” Another spoke.

“Why is someone out to get me? I don’t know anything? This... All this isn’t me. I keep to myself, I don’t make enemies. Why is this happening?” You started to freak out.

“(y/n), calm down. Breathe. You’re going to have a panic attack.”

“I’ve always been alone, on my own. Everything I’ve done, it was only ever for my mother and myself.” You held your head.

“You don’t have to be alone and shoulder everything on your own anymore, (y/n).” Taehyung said.

“I only agreed to go to the funeral because I thought I was honouring a dead man’s wish. If I had known, by showing my face, that it was a trip to an early grave, I would have killed myself when my mother died.” You said.

“This would have happened sooner or later, (y/n). Whether you showed up at the funeral of not. I’m sorry, we know that this is a lot to take in at one time.” Jin spoke cautiously.

“I didn’t ask for this-”

“You think we asked for any of this? All we’ve been doing is chasing after you, having to coddle you, ‘adjust’ to you. While doing all that, did you think we’ve had the chance to mourn? No because it’s all about you and how this is unfair to you.” Jimin finally spoke, letting all his frustration pour out.

“Jimin. Leave, now.” Namjoon stood up, his voice grew serious as his ordered the younger male. Jimin rolled his eyes but stormed out of the living room. You pursed your lips.

“Please... I want to go home.” You begged.

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atzfilm · 1 year

Text

stranger. (m)

– hybrid tiger!yeosang × f.reader [19.9k]

– smut, angst

– an aspiring vet student, you take a volunteer job at the local circus. you enjoy it, until you notice how odd the tiger is acting. how his eyes follow you, watch you. wait, did he just nod when you asked him a question?

– content: starvation, blood, inaccurate vet procedures, circus (the mc does not condone it at all), miscommunication, injuries, death mentions, breeding kink

– no part two!!

You stare at your thesis, picking at your hair. It’s pages long; filled with theories and hypotheses on how you can better the animal science industry, changing a whole portion of the structure. You’ve been working on it for months on end, trying your best to perfect the numbers and hopefully, presenting it to your dream graduate school.

“Still working on that paper?” San asks, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. He passes one off to you and you thank him with a tip of your baseball cap, taking a sip. You nod at the taste, eyes flicking up to him.

San’s your lab partner and your best friend, a constant by your side. He plops down next to you, glancing at your textbook. “You’ve been at it all day, time to take a break.” He pulls at his coat, tosses it across the bench next to the two of you.

“Can’t. It’s due in a few months, San. Every minute wasted is a moment that I’ll only regret. And don’t you have yours to work on?” You gesture to the space in front of him piled with research mimicking yours. He glances at them, letting out a deep sigh.

Adjusting his glasses, he begins organizing. “I do, but I know when it’s time for me to take a break. Like you, right now.” He pulls your papers away from you as you groan, lazily reaching for your documents. He gives you a pointed look, putting them back into your bag.

“Take a break, seriously. Those bags under your eyes are getting a bit too hard to look at,” he glances at you once, before beginning to pile his things away. “Why don’t you go and look at the local circus? I know you’ve been trying to shut it down for a while, so might as well see what’s really going on there.”

“It’s too obvious with these clothes on. They’ll never let me in,” You glance down at your lab coat, a pout on your lips.

“I honestly don’t think that would change much. They take the money they can get. We aren’t exactly a tourist town.”

You expressed your concerns to San constantly about the unfairness of your local circus, the animals there under the eyes of people who could care less about them. Even though there’s nothing you can do about it, you’re still stuck on it. There’s no reason for them to have exotic and big animals in there, and you’re sure their licenses are way past expired. But you know that despite it all, deep down you’re afraid; confrontation makes you queasy and you try your best to avoid it at all costs.

“Don’t you want to change the animal industry?” San points out, taking another sip of his coffee. He winces at the flavor, glancing inside the cup. “Tastes like pure grind.”

You switch with him, tasting him. Moaning in contentment, you pass him yours. He takes a sip, and nods, continuing to drink.

“What if they call the police on me or something?”

“Doesn’t your old crush Jongho work at the station?” San asks, and you feel the heat coming to your cheeks. “It’ll be fine then. He gets a boner just from looking at you, so I’m sure he’ll let you off the hook.”

“He does not get a fucking boner, you pervert,” You grumble, and San merely shrugs.

“He stumbles through his words like we’re in elementary school, and always blubbers something about doughnut puns since he’s a cop. It’s a bit embarrassing if you think about it.”

You hit his shoulder lightly and he laughs, wiggling his brows.

You sit on one of the benches, your coat tucked into your bag as you wait for the show to start. It’s against your morals to give anything to this piece of crap place, but your “of the moment” investigative journalism relies on you getting the scoop without being spotted. And San insisted that sneaking inside the local circus would only make matters worse, you begrudgingly agreeing. Jongho can’t save you from a bad reputation.

You’re in the far back, surrounded by dozens of people too tired from their long drives, probably seeking some reprieve from their loved ones or their stir crazy children. You listen to the cheesy music as you flick through your phone, waiting for the show to start.

Your town sits between two big cities. It’s unnoticed by the biggest television network near you, always skipped over in the weather forecast and news briefings. You’d think it didn't exist if you didn’t live here. A big reason why you’re ready to leave this silly town of yours, and see something different and new.

Since you were young, your neighbors sparingly moved away; everyone knew everyone. Being left alone was and still is, not an option. All of your partners and crushes know one another, and you never get away from San; you two are literal peas in a pod. San shares your dream of seeing the door out of this place and living a life being unknown, being able to walk down the street without saying hi to a familiar face every five seconds. The big city is the place you both want to go, and becoming a doctor seems like a big way out.

The lights dim, sliding your phone into your pocket.

The ringmaster walks out, introducing himself as Kim Hongjoong. You’re not sure if he and the Kim Family that dominates your town are related, but you keep an eye out for him, taking small notes. He’s too far away to pick out his face, but you watch in silence. Acrobats and gymnasts of all types jump and twirl around the stage, and you can’t help but respect them. It takes great strength to move their body that way.

The animals finally come out, and you lean forward, narrowing your eyes. You curse yourself for not taking a seat closer, but you digress. Monkeys play tricks for the audience who laugh in delight. You watch the dog trainer let the dogs jump and play, and the lights dim even more.

“And now it is time for our showmaker, our South Chinese Tiger!” Hongjoong shouts, taking a step back. A cage rolls out, and you tense up.

A‌ loud roar erupts throughout the crowd as a child cries. The tiger comes out with a chain around his neck, looking around the crowd. It’s huge, and it makes you wonder if it’s actually the breed that he said. They’re rare; it’s impossible and illegal to own one on your own. You see the tremors of its body, performing the tricks the trainer asks of it. You watch as the rest of the patrons leave once it ends, the laughter and music fading. Your eyes flick to a tent that says animals. You can hear San’s voice in your ear right now, telling you that this is definitely a bad idea and you should just go. But your curiosity cannot be tamed, and you need to know what’s exactly going on.

You stand outside the tent, your heart pumping in your ears. You hear the yelling of the man who takes care of the animals, loud sounds as he bangs something against the cages. You hear the monkeys squeal and whine, but surprisingly, you don’t hear the growl of the tiger. After a few moments of silence, you peek into the area, eyes flicking around for any movement of people. Making sure the coast is clear, you pull back the flap slowly, softly, closing it behind you.

You look at the tiger’s cage, surprised to see that his eyes are on yours, unmoving. You know not to antagonize him, flicking your gaze away and holding up your hands in submission. A small grunt falls from his lips, and he rests his head back down. You see the scars that cover his cheeks, the number 69 stamped into the side of his coat. You take slow steps as he watches you, making sure not to alarm him.

“What’s your name, big guy?” You ask softly, glancing around. Your eyes land on the metal plate on the bottom of his too small cage.

Yeosang.

"What are you doing here?"

You move away from the cage quickly, turning to see whoever showed up. It's a younger man, holding a small hose in his hands. He stares at you warily, covered in dirt from head to toe. He must be one of the assistants at the circus; hat and the blond hair dripping with what you can only assume is sweat. He shrugs off the hose, slowly walking towards you.

"The show closed a while ago, lady. No free behind the scenes shit."

You glance at the tiger, and his eyes are still resting on yours, as if he's waiting for you to make the next move. You hold your hands up in surrender, shaking your head.

"No, I'm not here for a free show. I saw your tiger—" You hear a low growl from the cage— "Yeosang, and I just noticed how malnourished he is, along with the other animals."

You look at Yeosang's side, his breaths quick but steady. The outline of his ribs worry you; he has to be getting way less food than he's supposed to. Tigers eat, a lot. Several pounds a day. But from the dull color of his fur and tired gaze, you can only assume that he's been given much less.

"And what's it to you? Are you the feds or something?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. "You need a warrant before coming in here."

"No, no. I'm a vet student. I'm in my last year. I'm not from the government or anything like that."

He crosses his arms against his chest. You listen to the monkeys shriek as he takes you in. Holding out a hand, he twirls his fingers in a give me motion.

"Show me your school identification."

You thank the heavens that you left it in your pocket instead of in the car like you usually do. You take it out, placing it in his hands. He looks at the ID, flicking his eyes between it and you. Passing it back to you, he sighs, scratching the hairs that fall from his cap. He glances at the animals for a moment, before speaking.

"They're beautiful, aren't they? But unfortunately, the head man doesn't care too much about their health. Just wants them to perform a little dance and sit in these tiny ass cages at the end of every show. Poor animals are probably plotting their escapes everyday."

His eyes flick to you. "I don't like the way they're treated either. But the only thing I can do is try to get some food in them and rinse them off. They probably haven't gotten their shots either." He takes off his cap, resting it on one of the standing posts.

He gestures to the tiger. "That boy there's been bred in captivity and hasn't seen the wild one day of his life. Too young to even remember his parents. And you don't see much of his species around here, or anywhere, really. South China tigers don't exist in the wild anymore."

So Hongjoong is telling the truth. He doesn't look like any of the tigers you've treated, but you just couldn't pinpoint which one he is. But those words falling from this man's lips, he is in fact, a rare tiger. One of the types that are sold on the black market for millions of dollars. And here he is rotting away in a too small cage, performing at a local zoo.

"He seems to have grown attached to you though. Never let someone that close to his cage except for me without throwing a fit. You must be good." Blondie smiles at you, cheeks plump. "Nice to meet you, by the way. My name is Wooyoung. Jung Wooyoung, but I hide the surname for people I don't know."

He holds out his hand, and you take it, shaking it lightly.

"Then why tell me?" You ask, and he clicks his tongue before speaking.

"Yeosang trusts you, so I do too."

Wooyoung goes through the procedures of what he does to treat the animals on a day basis; from their early meals, to exercise, to the end of shows. You're not sure how he even has time for himself since he's always here, the only trainer that's able to be this close to Yeosang without getting their arm bitten off. Without years of education in animal medicine, the knowledge that he has impresses you to the highest degree. He's even more educated than some of your classmates. But he explains softly that he doesn't get paid much, and he can only do with what he has in taking care of them.

"The city controls this circus. They know that our animals need more, but are too frugal and never mention it to anybody. I bet if those animal people came in they'd have a riot." Wooyoung cleans the bottom of an empty cage, monkeys watching him as he does so.

You feel Yeosang's eyes on your back but you don't turn to look at him. He's a bit strange from other ones you've interacted with, more solemn and quiet. Even the slow flip of his tail is different. But you're sure he's just curious about a new visitor, and nothing more than that.

Probably.

“We’ve been looking for more help around here,” Wooyoung mumbles, wrinkling his nose at a bit of grass one of the primates throws at him.‌‌‌ A quick point of his finger, he turns to you. “The rest of the animals don’t really need much work, but Yeosang is a bit of a mystery. He’s not too old, but he acts like a grumpy old man.”

Yeosang huffs in response, turning around in his cage. Wooyoung looks on in amusement as he gives his caretaker his back in defiance. Wooyoung looks back at you, grabbing his hat and placing it back on his head.

“I know you must be busy and all, but Yeosang needs another caretaker other than me, you know?‌ On my days off, no one dares go over to him, except for tosses of some raw meat at him and water. Not really taking care of him? I think he’s only really taken care of when I'm around. I‌ don’t think they fed him when I was gone for two days. He looked almost sickly.”

Wooyoung looks at the tiger in pity. “Even though he sleeps most of the day, he still needs food. They treat him like he’s worse than an animal, it’s disturbing.”

“Have you done anything to try and stop it?”‌ You ask, and Wooyoung looks at you sharply.

“What can I do? I’m only a lowly assistant, nothing I say would faze them. I went to the county and the sheriff, but all he did was kick me out and said mind my own business. These government people only care about the money in their pockets, they don’t care about the animals. Not like we do.”

He tilts his head. “We don’t know much about each other, that’s why I think when you come and volunteer, I can be there to watch you take care of him. At least for the first few weeks. After that, I can finally take a bit of a vacation.” Wooyoung grins widely.

You can see that he’s been trying his best to take care of them, but being a one man show could only work for so long. He’s young. You don’t know much about him, but from the passion in his eyes as he speaks about the animals, you think that’s all you need to know. It’s not his fault that he doesn’t have the resources to test and take care of them. And if you think about it, you don’t have the resources either. But helping him with the care, you’re not sure if you have the time.

Your thesis is due soon, and it takes up most of your free time. You usually have about five minutes in the day to eat dinner or chat with San. But you can see the defeat in Wooyoung’s eyes, the pure exhaustion. No one that young should look that way. He’s probably the same age as you, and looks like he’s been through Hell and back.

You nod.

“I can help you when I can. I go to school during the week, but I‌‌ can help a couple of hours a day, and during the weekend.”

His smile almost cracks his face at how wide it is.

“Did you hear that, Yeo?” Wooyoung yells, seeing the tiger’s ear twitch at his voice. “We got a new caretaker just for you buddy!”

You giggle softly at his excitement. Wooyoung finishes up his job, whistling softly at Yeosang. The tiger turns to look at him, tail still moving slowly. His eyes move to look at you. It’s a bit strange how human his eyes are, scanning yours with curiosity beyond your comprehension. You can’t quite understand how people can treat animals so harshly when they hold your eyes with such intelligence.

His large paw scratches the bottom of the cage, claws making you wince. They’re a bit overgrown; he’s supposed to have scratching posts around his cage, but it’s so small that all he can do is walk in a circle. You wish that you could do something, anything, to help him. But you suppose that being here is enough for now.

“See you later, bud. Gotta show y/n around the tents for a bit, before taking one off.” Wooyoung waves you to follow him. You take one last look at Yeosang, before closing the flap behind you.

Wooyoung walks you around the premise, introducing you to members of the circus that walk past. You see a man with bright pink hair waving at you from the top of a pole, balancing on one leg as he eats his dinner. His eyes are soft as they watch you continue on. You later learn that his name is Yunho.

Wooyoung peeks his head inside a trailer, groaning at what he sees.‌ A head full of hair pops out. He winks at you, reaching out and pressing his lips against the back of your hand. He’s the ringleader; Hongjoong. You can see he’s quite a seducer immediately upon hearing Wooyoung calling you a doctor. Wooyoung has to drag you away from him, scolding him as he does so. You’re still not sure if he’s related to the Kim’s, but at the moment you’d rather not dwell on it.

The other faces blend amongst each other, until he finally reaches the back entrance of the fairground. He leans against the fence, adjusting his cap again.

“You can come right after the performance, if you have time tomorrow.”‌ His eyes widened before taking out his phone. “Ah, can you put your number in here?” He hands you his phone and you type it quickly, giving it back to him. He nods slowly, tucking it back into his pocket.

“Thanks,” You start, and he raises a brow, “For not calling the cops on me.”

Wooyoung shrugs. “Eh, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Yeosang hasn’t eaten yet,” He winks at you, and you laugh. “I’m happy you agreed to join, Dr. y/n.”

You wave him off, your face getting warm. “Not a doctor yet. But close.”

“Close enough for me,” He turns back, waving at you. “See ya later, doc!”

He disappears into the tents, leaving you at the back entrance. You let out a small chuckle, before turning around and walking back. That night, you dream about honey eyes staring at you in the middle of the forest.

“A circus? You’re working at the local Kim circus?” San scoffs, shaking his head. “You know how they treat animals there, y/n.‌ It’s not a good idea to involve yourself in something like that. It’ll only lead to bad endings. One day they’re going to get raided and you’re going to go to jail.”

“Love that optimism,” You mumble, sipping on what had to be tenth coffee. “Not digging the vibes, San. You’re sounding a bit too much like those prep kids in our senior year bio class.”

“I’m sorry,”‌ he says, staring at his textbook in front of him. “I just don’t want to see you being in some shady shit. I know you want to save the animals, but sometimes you have to save yourself.”

“Choi San.”

You put your coffee to the side.

“You can’t say that when you’re the one who stopped in the middle of the highway, blocked three lanes of traffic with your body only, so that you could pick up a turtle and let him go into the river.”

He looks at you from his textbook, disgruntled. “That was necessary and you know it!"

You raise an eyebrow. “Say that to the thousands of people on that highway. I’m pretty sure you’re being sued right now by the state.”

He waves you off. “No, it’s the city. But that’s besides the point,” San pushes his book to the side, eyes on yours, “It’s weird. The only people who go to that stupid animal zoo are the tourists who stop in our town for some medallions at Jongho’s dad’s tourist trap shop. I know you want to save the world, I do, but some things are just too risky. Even more risky than me stopping three lanes of traffic.” He points out.

“San, this circus is like my turtle. I have to take care of those animals, I‌ won’t be able to live with myself if I‌ told Wooyoung no, and left him alone to fend for himself. They need someone in there who has some semblance of a clue on what they’re doing. And I know I’m not certified yet, but I‌ can still assist.”

San sighs loudly, leaning back in his chair. Before you can tell the clumsy man how bad of an idea that is, the chair cracks, and he falls backwards to the floor. People in the coffee shop look at him for a moment, before getting back to their posh coffee talks.

You lean over the table, looking down at your best friend. He gives you a sheepish look, before getting back to his feet. You hold back your grin as he situates himself, sitting back down in his spot.

“Is there any way I’ll convince you to say no?”

“Absolutely not.”

He frowns. “Well, at least take care of yourself, yea? Make sure that this is strictly volunteering, without pay. Don’t need anyone coming after you and saying that you’re accepting payment from this place,” He mumbles, adjusting his glasses.

Your phone vibrates, and you glance down at the message.

(unknown): show just finished. whenever you're ready, Yeosang needs his cage cleaned. already moved him out of the oc, so lmk if you're coming in.

You look at San. He’s right; if the town or better yet, the government decides to raid this place, it’s a big possibility that you may be somehow intertwined in politics that surround the death trap. You sigh, knowing what you’re going to say anyway. San’s right, you are soft.

(you): be there soon!‌ just have to finish up some assignments.

He messages back quickly.

(blondie): oh you actually gave me the right number? good. I'll see you soon. ^0^

You snort, tucking your phone back in your pocket. San shakes his head at you, but you ignore his pessimism. You want good energy, not the negative vibes he’s sending your way. You pack up your things, blowing him a kiss before kicking the door open to the shop, excited to see how your first day goes.

"Ah, y/n! You came back!" You turn your head to the bright voice, Yunho smiling at you. He's not on the top of a pole, stretching as he eats a granola bar. His eyes flick to the books in your hand. "Just came back from school, I presume?"

You nod quickly. "Yup. Work hard, get smart?" You mentally slap yourself. Yunho snorts, holding out his bar to you. Your eyes flick to his legs, noticing that he's doing a split, unfazed at your gaping mouth.

"Want some?" He waves it again, and you shake him off.

"Do you know where Wooyoung is? He told me to meet him, but I don't have the slightest idea where."

He nods, pointing behind him. "He's cleaning up the main tent, but you can just go into the animal arena. Pretty sure he wants you to be there anyway. Be careful of the poop, though. The monkeys have been out of it today. Almost got some in my hair." He touches his strands with a pout on his lips.

You thank him, walking quickly through the fairgrounds. You try your best to blend into the crowd, but your plain clothes are obvious among the colorful attire of everyone else. Many people you met yesterday give you soft hellos and smiles, and some you didn't stumble across look at you with curiosity, wondering who you are.

You slip into the tent, closing it softly behind you. Your eyes look around, dropping your books on the steps just before the sand. Animals turn to you lazily, before going back to whatever they're doing. Yeosang looks up from his spot, tail tirelessly swaying back and forth. He seems to examine your figure, eyes still sleepy. He's in the smaller cage, his bigger one a mess on the inside.

"Don't mind me, boy. Just here to help clean your cage." You glance around, and notice a broom and picker on the left side of the tent. You grab it and walk into his cage, sweeping. You feel the tiger's eyes on you the whole time; what sounds like purrs rumbling in his chest. You know that big cats couldn't purr even if they wanted to, but it's interesting to listen to him.

"So, how was the show?" You ask as you gather his droppings in a pile, glancing over at him. You're not sure why you expected him to say something but you hear a slight huff, his head dropping onto his paws. "Not good, huh? Well, I'm sure tomorrow will be better. There's some parade coming through, so there will probably be a lot of people for you to entertain."

He doesn't seem to like that idea, blinking slowly before closing his eyes.

"Yea, yea I get it. But there's nothing I can do, you know? I'm just here to help, I can’t stop the circus," you glance around the clean cage in pity. He's probably craving the vast fields to run in, desperate to hunt and be free. But he's stuck in this small cage, stuck performing to people who couldn't care about what condition he's in.

You hear the hose turn on, and you turn back quickly, seeing Wooyoung appear. He's wearing all black, hat still flipped around. He nods at you, winking at Yeosang.

"Good afternoon, y/n. Surprised you got here before me," he says, passing you the hose. You thank him, slowly rinsing away the mildew and other buildup that sticks to the bars of his cage.

"How was today's show?" You ask, and Wooyoung rubs the back of his head.

"If I'm being honest with you, big guy over here was a bit lazy. Didn't want to move at all, and the head man is a bit mad about it," Wooyoung takes a step closer to you. He glances over at Yeosang, before speaking. "Talking about putting the poor animal down. I tried my best to convince him otherwise since every person had a bad day, even tigers like our Yeosang."

“Hongjoong?” You ask, and Wooyoung raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“No, the only thing Hongjoong is in charge of is that trailer of his. Be thankful for only that.” Wooyoung turns back to Yeo. "Right, big boy? Just a bad day, huh?"

Yeosang flicks his tail in response, eyes still closed.

"Could they do that? Aren't there laws since he's an endangered animal? This can't be legal—"

"It's not," Wooyoung mumbles. "He's not sick or has a deadly contagious disease. He's not perfectly healthy, but his problems don't affect anyone or anything else. I honestly have no clue what to do," He looks at Yeosang, worry in his eyes. "Big guy is the only thing I look forward to everyday. Can't see the circus without him."

You feel terrible. Being a vet student, you know that you sometimes have to make the ultimate decision and put the animal down, for mercy. But seeing an animal that just needs a bit more food in his system being killed for simply being tired, or in a mood... It's irresponsible. The doctors at your college would have a fit.

Wooyoung and you fill up his water tub and food. You're a bit surprised at how nonchalant Yeosang is. Usually tigers would immediately smell the scent of the meat and pace around, ready to chow down. But he barely flicks an ear, head still resting on his paws. You move out of the cage as Wooyoung opens it up, moving the large barrier between you, and the tiger. He taps on Yeosang's cage as a warning, opening the small gate.

Yeosang opens his mouth in a long, loud yawn, slacking his lips together as he drags himself back to his cage. He walks past the meat, sitting in the far corner of the cage, dropping his head back into his paws.

Wooyoung sighs.

"I don't know what's up. He's been like this since you left yesterday. Not wanting to eat, to do anything. He looks a bit brighter since you've shown up, but..." Wooyoung taps on the cage. "Yeo, eat the food! There's not much around here these days."

Yeosang's ear flicks to the sound of his name, but he does nothing to move to the raw meat, breathing in and out slowly. You don't see anything odd about his vital signs, at least from where you're standing. You take a step closer to the cage, tapping lightly on the metal. Maybe talking to him would work? You know it's a long shot, but he seems to listen to Wooyoung when he wants to.

"Yeosang?" You say, and his ear twitches. "You haven't eaten all day, you know that's not good for you.“ You walk a bit closer to his cage, hands inches away from the steel bars lining his cage. His eyes open, breathing in and out slowly. “Why don’t you take a bite? For me?” You ask softly.

Wooyoung snorts behind you. “Don’t think that’ll work, y/n. He's stubborn. Never really listens to anyone but his thoughts.”

Yeosang huffs slowly, tail flicking. You point at the food, rubbing your hands together as you plead for him to eat something. He watches you for a moment, before shaking off his fur, standing and walking to the meat. He looks at you, and you nod. He takes the meat, turning and walking into the corner again.

You cheer, pulling your fist down in excitement. Wooyoung rolls his eyes at you, pointing to the other cages.

“Time for some monkey shit.” He mumbles, and you give him a strained grin as he laughs at you, guiding you along.

Soon, the two of you are covered in sweat from the manual labor. Wooyoung tosses you a wet towelette and you thank him, wiping off your forehead. Yeosang is fast asleep, ear twitching ever so often. The other animals are sleeping as well as Wooyoung walks around, dimming the lights. He gestures for you to follow him quietly in which you do, not noticing the glow of yellow eyes watching as you go.

You close and lock the door behind you, letting out a sigh of relief. Wooyoung shakes his head at you, guiding you along the grounds.

“You’ll get used to it. Animal shit sticks to you after a while,” He mumbles, sniffing his clothes. His face scrunches up at the smell, and you giggle. The smell of crap is everywhere around you, but Wooyoung never smelled like anything but hard labor.

“It’s not that bad, you always smell good, you know. Never like shit.”

You see the red rise to his ears as he looks away from you, saying nothing. You reach for your bags but he only glares at you, continuing forward.

“We’re having a welcome dinner for you. Can’t leave until you meet everyone.‌ And I’m not letting you carry these bags and books on your own. Wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me,” He explains.

“Thanks,” You say, and he gives you his cheeky smile, opening the flap of a tent. He holds it open as you dunk and enter, seeing everyone you’ve met and some unfamiliar faces across the table. They all say hello to you as Wooyoung introduces you.

Yunho waves, tapping the chair next to him. You thank him as you sit, Hongjoong across from you and Wooyoung sitting on your opposite side. Hongjoong winks, and you wink back, causing him to erupt with laughter. Yunho tsks at him, holding out a plate for you. You stare at the food in front of you, bowing again.

“Ah, stop thanking us. You’re one of the circus folk now, no need to bow.” Yunho eats his food happily, and this is the first time you’ve seen him sitting normally. “Plus, Wooyoung has a bit of a crush on you, so you’ll be in the family soon enough.”

He leans away from Wooyoung’s grabby hands, laughing loudly. Wooyoung mumbles some obscenities underneath his breath, shaking his head.

“I hate the performers,”‌‌ he grumbles, chewing on some rice.

“Thanks,” You ignore the glare Yunho shoots at you,“For inviting me into your family. It’s nice to see so many welcoming people,”‌ You grin at the people around you.

Hongjoong stands at that, “Ah, toast to the new lady!‌ Hopefully she’s here for more than a few days!” He laughs, and everyone follows along with him, tapping their plastic cups against one another. You laugh along with them, taking a sip.

Months pass by before you know it. Your free time is spent at the fairgrounds, already on friendly terms with everyone. Even Hongjoong, his teasing with you endless, and Yunho and his strange sitting positions. Once, you saw him hanging from ropes as he ate rice upside down. Wooyoung and you even text everyday, his feelings for you dissipating into more of a friendship. Although Yunho constantly insisted that Wooyoung was never over it, there aren't any signs that say otherwise. He hasn’t even asked you on a date.

You don’t mind it; schooling occupies most of your time.‌ San and you studied for hours on end, sometimes drooling onto your work into the early morning. And now, as you wait for your grades and acceptances or rejections to your graduate schools, you bite your lip, eyes on the computer. They said it would be released at ten a.m., and it’s already five minutes past.

“Relax,” San says, sipping his green tea. But you notice at how anxiously he taps his feet, eyes glued on his laptop. “It’s a lot of grades to put out at once, you know? They’re probably doing it in batches.”

Your laptop shakes on the table as San rocks his leg, and you glare at him over your shake. “How about stop shaking that leg so I can concentrate on the results, huh? You’re making my head hurt.”

He stops, offering you an apologetic look. You roll your eyes, refreshing your page again.‌ A gasp falls from your lips as you push your drink to the side, eyes glued on the screen. San comes over, looking at the laptop.

“Oh shit.”‌‌ he says, cheeks lifting into a grin. You both scream, pulling into each other’s arms and laughing loudly. There’s several people who shush the two of you, but you’re too excited to pay much mind.

San’s laptop dings as well, and he almost spills his tea at the results.‌ Another scream, and the waiters are telling you two to shut up before they kick you out. You grab your belongings, shoving it into your bag and running out with San.

“Holy shit, what the fuck-”

“Choi fucking San, we got accepted to the best vet school in the country. What the fuck?!” You scream, and pull each other into your arms again.

“Drinks?” He asks, eyes bright. You nod quickly, before you remember your volunteering. San sees the drop in your eyes. “Gotta go to the circus, huh?” He asks, tilting his head. “No worries, we can go another time.”

You bite your lip. “No. I’ll just text Wooyoung and tell him another time. We only get accepted into our dream colleges once in a lifetime. Can’t push that aside.” You say, wiggling your eyebrows at him before messaging a quick sorry to Wooyoung, before running off with San, screaming into the night.

“The university is only a few towns over,” San mumbles over his sparkling lemonade. You two sit in your living room, laughing at the TV while sipping non-alcoholic drinks. When San and you go out for drinks, it only means that you sit in your living room and drink whatever’s in the fridge.

“That means that technically, you don’t have to buy a new apartment. You can still live here and just commute,” he explains, but you shake your head, taking a sip of your water.

“Absolutely not. I know it’s more expensive, but being here any longer will only give me back cramps.” You mutter, rubbing your lower back for emphasis. San rolls his eyes as you continue. “And we dreamed of getting out of here, San, I don’t want to stay here longer than I have to.”

“What are you going to say to the circus then?” He asks softly.

You blink, putting down your cup. He’s right, and you’ve been trying to push that to the back of your mind. But it’s better to just tell Wooyoung and get it over with, rather than waiting until the very end to say something. He’d only be more annoyed with you if you waited until the last second. You’ll miss spending time at the circus, even if you won’t admit it out loud. They’ve become your home away from home.

Even the animals have grown to like you. The monkeys squeal in delight when you arrive, letting you groom them without much protest. Even Yeosang, the aloof tiger, lets you brush his hairs. He even licks your hand, even as you stick out your tongue in disgust. You haven’t seen them in a couple of days because of finals, but they’re always the highlight of your week. You’re not sure if you’d get over not seeing Yeosang anymore. You glare at San.

“Don’t make the mood drop, asshole.”

“Fine, but you know I’m right.”

“Yea, yea.”

Your phone rings, and you glance down. Furrowing your eyebrows, you answer it quickly.

“Hey Woo-”

“y/n, I need you here right now.” You can hear the panic in his voice, and you stand quickly, grabbing your coat as you listen to him. “Yeosang’s not listening to any of us, and he’s been avoiding food. He hasn’t eaten since you've last been here, and we all don’t know what to do. You're the only one that we thought we could call, and I know you're busy but we ran out of options.”

“It’s okay! I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Just hang on a bit, alright?”

He agrees and you hang up the phone, tucking it into your back pocket. San watches as you quickly pack up your things, grabbing your first aid. He stumbles from the couch, grabbing his coat as well.

“San, the tiger, is sick. He’s not eating and he’s probably acting really aggressive because of it. Wooyoung just called me and I have to go there-”

“I’m coming with you,”‌ San says simply. “It’ll be better if two almost-vets are there, rather than one. We can see what’s up with him and hopefully diagnose him.”

You send him a thankful look, running out with him close behind you.

You pull the flap to the side, eyes flicking around. His low growls fill the room, and you quickly walk over to Wooyoung. He stands there worried, glancing at you. His expression loosens slightly at your appearance, before flicking to San.

“Who’s the newbie?”

“San,” You say, “He’s here to help me figure out what’s wrong.”

You look at the growling tiger in question. His eyes narrow on you, flicking between you and San before settling on Wooyoung.

“He’s been like this for days. Never listening to us, going on and on and growling. I gave him a treat a few days ago, a deer, and it’s still in there. I tried grabbing it while he was sleeping, but he tried pouncing on me.”‌ Wooyoung rubs his arm, and you glance down, seeing blood run down his wrist.

You pull him to the side, taking out your human first aid. He scoffs, trying to pull away but you merely glare at him, pulling his arm back.

“You can’t just walk around a predator’s cage with a bleeding arm. And you know that this could get seriously infected, right?"

"Did you check his temperature? Usually tigers in the wild could last days without food, did you give him a big meal before?"

Wooyoung shakes his head, San looks at him curiously. You clean off Wooyoung's arm, putting small butterfly stitches on the wound.

"He's never attacked me before," Wooyoung says, eyeing San as he takes steps closer to Yeosang. He keeps enough distance as to not scare him, but you see the tenseness in his body as he keeps his eyes on your best friend.

"Yeo isn't one to fight. Thought he might have a bug or something."

"San, don't get any closer. Helooks like he wants to bite your arm off," You look at him, worried. "Yeo's a bit unpredictable right now, it's best to stay away until we figure it out."

Yeosang looks at you, then stares at you cleaning up Wooyoung. You don't see anything obvious on him, it's probably something that you just can't pinpoint with a look. You nod at Wooyoung, before walking over to San.

"Think it can be a bug or something?" You ask softly, staring at Yeosang as he walks away from the both of you, sitting in a small grass patch in his cage, flicking his tail quickly. He's anxious or annoyed, that much you can tell.

"When I got close to him, I didn't see any marks. And he would have been scratching if it's really a bug. His coat is in good condition and he seems much healthier than you last described. Maybe he's just in a bad mood? You haven't seen him in a few days, right?"

You roll your eyes. "He's a tiger, San. He doesn't care if I'm gone."

A roar erupts from Yeosang's mouth, clawing on the grass. San sighs.

"Seems like the big guy disagrees, huh?"

You look at the meat laying closer to the cage, and you grab it. Yeosang watches your every move, body still tense. He's never been like this with you, so you can't help but be confused at his actions. You know that he's healthy from what you can see, although you'd love to give him a shot and sedate, see if anything is physically wrong with him. But you don't have the luxury; only certified doctors carry that, and neither you or San is qualified.

You feel Wooyoung and San standing close behind you, and you turn back. "Guys, he's a bit anxious right now so I think it's best if you back up a bit. Give him some room to breathe."

The guys grunt at your words but follow your instructions, taking steps backwards. Once they're several more feet away, you look back at Yeosang. His movements are more calm now, and you sigh in relief.

"Hey bud. I know I haven't been here in a few days to see you. I'm sorry. I've been busy with school and all, but I'm here now okay? Why haven't you been eating?"

You hold up the meat in your hand. "I know you didn't eat much last time, but you gotta eat this, okay? It's good for you."

Yeosang doesn't move.

"I won't leave you again. I'll come by more often, alright?" You feel a bit guilty at your words, knowing you're leaving soon. But he can't read your mind, he's just an animal. "Just eat some food, okay? You gotta be a big and healthy boy for me." You glance back at the guys, and lean forward. "And you're my favorite friend, just saying. These guys behind me? Lame."

San snorts at your words. "I can't believe you're putting a tiger above me."

You put a finger to your lips, hushing him. You place the meat at the edge of the cage, sliding your hand between the bars before stepping back.

"Trust me, Yeosang. You need to eat, you can't starve yourself while I'm not here."

Yeosang huffs. You watch him as he shakes off his coat, slowly coming to the edge of the cage. He sniffs at the meat, before picking it up with his teeth and walking back. He chews on it, eyes flicking up to yours ever so often. You breathe in relief, turning back to the others. They stare at you, mouths agape.

"Are you some animal whisper?" Wooyoung says, eyes wide. "Can you speak to tigers?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Yeosang's not some ordinary tiger. All you have to do is speak to him like he's one of us and he'll listen. Hopefully over the next few days we won't see anything strange happening with him. I just think he was nervous." You shrug.

"Cause you were gone." Wooyoung says simply. "He's grown to be your right hand tiger, doc. Can't leave the circus now." Wooyoung grins.

San exchanges a look with you, before clearing his throat. "I'll be in the car if you need me, y/n. Let you guys talk it out."

Wooyoung raises his eyebrows in confusion as San quickly walks away, not before tripping over a rock as he does so. But he doesn't look back, quickly closing the flap behind him.

"Why is he in such a rush?" Wooyoung asks, shaking his head. "Your friend is strange."

"I have something to speak to you about, Wooyoung." You glance at Yeosang. "Outside, preferably."

Yes, he's a tiger. And yes, he doesn't know anything that you're saying and there's really no reason for you to speak outside because he wouldn't understand anyway. But those eyes are a bit too curious, it makes you wonder if he could comprehend every word that falls from your lips.

Wooyoung closes the flap behind him, arms resting against his chest as he looks at you. "Quitting?" He asks simply. "I know you have school, so I presumed this would have happened sooner rather than later."

You nod, rubbing the back of your neck. "I honestly didn't expect my favorite grad school to pick me, I thought I would've stayed at a more local college. But this one is too far away for me to come back and forth everyday." You look at him sheepishly. "I love working here, I do. But—"

"But you have a chance to have those big town dreams, darling. I’m not going to stop you from living your life, doc." His smile stretches across his cheeks. "Plus we're going to need your help when you get back. Yeosang is going to miss you while you're gone."

You don't have the heart to tell Wooyoung that you don't plan on coming back here. That you plan on staying as far away as you can from this town of yours, leaving it in the dust. And seeing Yeosang struggle with being separated from you for a few days, you're a bit concerned when he realizes that you won't be able to come back.

"Do you think I should tell Yeo?" You ask softly. Wooyoung purses his lips for a moment, before speaking.

"No. As you know, he's a big ol 'ball of sensitivity. Would probably starve himself until you come back. It's best to stay away and not tell him. Saying goodbye like normal isn't going to hurt though." Wooyoung looks down at his dusty shoes, trying his best to hold back his true feelings. He's grown attached to you being here so often, but it's not a shock that you're leaving. He just didn't expect it to be so soon. He thought he had more time to spend with you.

"I'll miss you, y/n. Really." He says, looking up at you. You see the blush rise on his cheeks but you say nothing. "You've been a delight around here; everyone loves when you pop in. And circus people are pretty picky. Including myself." He takes his cap off, clutching it between his fingers. "I thank you y/n. From the bottom of my heart and soul. You helped me take care of these animals, and without you, they would've been very ill. You are a caring and loving lady, and I know you will be an amazing veterinarian. I wish you the best of luck."

Shit. You can feel the tears tugging at the corners of your eyes, but you take a big breath, holding them back. It's too early in the night to cry.

"Thank you, Woo. Truly."

He winks.

—

The last couple of weeks go by quickly. You spend as much time as you can with Yeosang; watching him as he practices his tricks with his trainer and staying at almost every show. You can see that he's loosened up quite a bit, his roars less exhausted and more rambunctious. You giggle when he huffs and whines at Wooyoung, and brushes his coat while he's deep in sleep. You know it'll only hurt more when you leave him there, but you hope that he's not as attached as you are to him. Hoping that he just sees you as another trainer at the circus.

Hongjoong makes your farewell party in his style. Overdramatic, inviting every single person that has gotten into contact with you and more. You insist that he'd not throw one, but he ignored your pleas, confetti everywhere as you stared at him in annoyance. You've grown to love his crazy behavior, as much as you scold him for it. Yunho cries as you say your last goodbyes, pushing his head into your shoulder and letting out dramatic sobs. You only pat him and laugh, wiping away your tears. But separating from Wooyoung has to be the worst.

He holds his hand between his hands as you pull him into a hug, and you feel the trembling of his body as he tries to hold back his cries. You kiss his cheek and tell him that you'll message and call all the time, at least twice a week. He's become one of your best friends, and you're sure you won't even lose contact with him.

But the one encounter you aren't looking forward to is saying goodbye to Yeosang. You hold your breath outside of his tent, trying your best to control your face. He's an animal, yes, but he can sense when something is troubling you, and you'd rather not upset him. But sitting outside his cage as he sleeps only makes your chest clench.

"Hey, big boy Yeo," You whisper. You see his ear twitch, but he makes no move to open up his eyes.

"Gotta say goodbye. I won't be here for a few days because of... testing, but you better be a good boy for Wooyoung and the others. I'm counting on you to eat your food all the time, and not give any trouble. No temper tantrums, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can."

You close your eyes, feeling your voice begin to crack. "I love you, you know that right? You're my favorite tiger, Yeosang. No one can ever replace you. I'll see you in a bit, alright?" You stand, glancing one last time at your sleeping tiger, before jogging out, your sobs too much for you to hold back anymore.

—

"Already at my place! I'll see you when, next week?" San asks through the video call. You nod, munching on an apple.

You already packed up all of your belongings, just a few essentials before you leave for your new apartment. You've lived in this one your whole adult life, but you've decided that it's time to move on. Freshen up, and see the big world out there.

"Yup. Don't eat all of those candies your mom gave you, San. I'll fight you if you do."

"Kinky," he mumbles, and you roll your eyes. He laughs loudly, mentioning something about cleaning up before you say your goodbyes, hanging up the phone.

You put your phone on the charger, flopping yourself back into your bed, tossing the apple in the trash. It's been a few weeks since you've seen the circus, and your heart aches, but you don't dare to go back. Not when you know you'd probably want to stay.

You glance at time, rubbing your eyes. It's already almost midnight, and you still have a few things to unpack. But your head is throbbing and you're too tired to even think straight. You flick off the lamp next to your bed, throwing the cover over your face. Your eyes flutter close, and you hope that you can get think about that home renovator fucking you to Tuesday. But of course, nothing actually goes as planned.

The doorbell rings, and you let out a huff, screaming internally as you throw the blanket to the side and stomp to the door. Not bothering to even look in the peephole, you fling it open.

"What?"

Your eyes move up to the person standing there. Before you can yell again, he jumps into your arms, making you stumble backward into your apartment. The door shuts behind the two of you as you scream, enveloped in this man's embrace.

"I'm calling the police!" You scream, pushing him off of you. He falls back, landing on the floor.

You stay still, eyes on him. A light yellow, almost honey like color looks back at you. Scars cover his cheeks, and you see something on his neck. A tattoo, maybe? He's too far away to tell, and you'd rather not get close. He has a nose piercing, two small silver rings in his left nostril. His clothing is a bit small on him, shirt fitting like skin and pants high above his ankles. A distinct mark on his temple feels all too familiar. His eyes flutter, before his smile slowly goes away.

"Why did you leave me?" He asks simply.

"Get out of my house right now, and I won't call the police." You'd make a run for it, but you have no idea if he has a weapon on him.

His eyes look up at you, and you can't tell if it's mock innocence or not. He stumbles to his feet, your eyes flicking to something moving behind him. You tilt your head, and a tail appears. You stumble back, hitting your back on the counter.

"Shit," You curse, a small whine falling from your lips. You grab the pot from behind you, holding it out in defense as he moves closer. "I don't know who the hell you are, or why you're in my house, but you need to go. Now."

He shakes his head. "I can't go back there, y/n. Not without you. You left me without saying goodbye." Moist eyes look at you. "And you do know me. You're the one that's been with me for months, y/n. How can you forget me?"

You see his hair twitch, and you narrow your eyes. Fluffy triangles peek out of his long, soft orange locks. You blink quickly. No.

No fucking way are those ears.

"Who are you?" You say again, and he narrows his eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"How can you forget me so easily?"

His velvety voice rumbles through the room. He sighs, pulling down his shirt and turning his neck so you can see what's there. A sixty-nine is in his skin; burned into it rather than traditionally tattooed. You can see a faint outline of a scar that follows the dark letters. You only know one tattoo that looks the same as his, and you shake your head, hand trembling as you hold the pot.

"No, you can't be."

He smiles softly. "It is me. Why don't you believe me?"

The tail comes out, rubbing his thigh absentmindedly. You feel like your world is slowly ending as you take him in. You can't forget those eyes that stared at you with intelligence beyond just a simple animal’s. But it's not possible. This can't be Yeosang standing in front of you.

"What's your name?" You ask. "I need to know if it's really you."

"Yeosang." He says simply. "I am a South Chinese Tiger hybrid. I am half man, half beast. And you are y/n, the trainer that used to come in about three times a week to take care of me alongside Wooyoung. Although recently, she has left without a trace."

It's him. You know it's him from the mischievous look in his eyes, to the scars and markings across his skin that are too similar to ignore. He's your tiger. It all makes no sense but you can’t quite come up with another solution.

You drop the pot slowly. "How... How are you a human, Yeosang?"

He furrows his eyebrows, deep in thought. "I would rather not talk about that, if you don't mind." He has two sets of ears, the human ones on the sides, and the animal ones on the top. You can't help but stare at his animal attributes, too fascinated to continue to question him.

"Why didn't you say goodbye? You told me that you would never leave, y/n. You said that you would always come back. But then I heard Wooyoung talking to Yunho about you leaving the town, and I couldn't take it anymore. I had to come and see why you're leaving me."

You hear the desperation in his voice as he looks at you. Your head is so confused; trying your best to process that your tiger is now a fully functioning human hybrid, and that he's standing in your apartment. And you can't help but notice the sharp edges to his features, the thick brows and clenched jaw line. You glance at Adam's apple moving before you shake your head. He's handsome.

Get out of your thoughts, you think.

"I never planned on staying there, Yeosang—"

"Don't call me that." He says sharply. "Call me Yeo."

You tsk. A low growl rumbles in his chest, and your eyes widen. "Yeo...?"

He sighs in satisfaction as you continue.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I always planned on going to the city for college, taking a job there and moving away from this town. I've hated it here. I can't stand being in this place. It makes me sick, if I'm being honest with you."

"This is our home," Yeosang says simply. "How could you leave our home?"

"Did you like being there, at the circus? Stuck in a cage all day, and then performing for people?"

His ears lower as he looks away, tail swaying slightly. "I am grateful that I'm not dead. Luxuries of open fields and hunting like a true beast are desires, but I've accepted that I'm not ever going to have that. And that's okay."

Your brain is foggy as you strain to keep yourself awake for the conversation. Yeosang seems to notice your tiredness as he looks at you with concern.

"You should rest, y/n."

"Are you going back to the circus?" You ask, and he raises his brows as if you'd asked a stupid question.

"Why would I do that? You're here, I'm not leaving you."

Oh no. You did not sign up to babysit a handsome tiger man, you're leaving for school. The last thing you need is the government coming to you and arresting you for holding back a rare creature. You rub your face, knowing that you won't refuse him because one; you're a punk and two; no one in their right mind would believe a word that you say about a hybrid tiger.

"Have you eaten today?" You ask softly. He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought.

"No, but I can wait. I can wait until you're ready to prepare something else. I don't want to be a burden on you."

You shake your head. "No, I'll grab you something from the kitchen and we can figure out whatever's going on right now." You glance on your TV, flicking it on. "Do you mind waiting in here while I go and grab you something?"

He shakes his head, sitting softly on the edge of the cushions. He looks back at you with those curious eyes of his, before turning to the TV in front of him. You see his tail rest lightly next to him as his eyes focus on the late night cartoons.

You walk into the kitchen, grabbing some leftovers out of the fridge and heating them in the microwave. You sit on the edge of the counter as you wait, legs swinging back and forth slowly. It's too late to think about how Yeosang became what he is, or how he found your home. You're not sure if you want to tell San about what's happening; afraid that he'd only laugh and brush it off. You want to believe that the man in your living room is lying to you, but you know it's not true. That's your Yeosang, no matter how much you deny it.

The beep pulls you out of your thoughts, and you jump down, grabbing the food and a fork. You walk into the living room, eyes flicking to the TV. A news report is running, and you almost drop the food in your hands.

Local Circus Tiger Missing from Its Habitat.

Yeosang gladly takes the food from your hands as your eyes stay glued to the program.

"Trainer reports that he heard a large cracking sound before running into the tent, seeing the coveted rare South Chinese Tiger gone. The cage was in stable condition, and no one suspects that the tiger has left on his own. Since it is one of the very few left in the world, many suspect that it was stolen. Police are currently searching the area for a trace of where this tiger named Yeosang has gone. As a precaution, please stay in your homes and do not go outside unless absolutely necessary, in case this tiger is on the loose. If spotted, please contact the police immediately and do not engage. This is..."

You look at Yeosang as he munches happily, fingers scooping the food from the bowl without a care in the world. You sit next to him, making sure not to land on his tail. You've got a rogue tiger in your apartment, and the city is searching everywhere for him. You glance at Yeosang's ears, letting out a sigh.

He pauses in scarfing down his food, cocking his head towards you. His ears twitch as he looks at you. "No one will find me here." He explains. "I'm a human now, they can't tell it's me, you don't need to worry."

"Yeosang, you should go back." You say, and he freezes completely at your words. "Being here, with me... this isn't where you belong, Yeo. You deserve more than what I can provide. You need to go back home."

"That's not my home." He states simply, licking his fingers. You pass him a wet towelette, and he stares at it, before wiping his fingers.

"This isn't your home either—"

"Yes it is."

"Yeosang—"

"My home is where you are, y/n," he looks at you seriously. "You are my mate, I'm not leaving you. I can't leave you."

You blink quickly. Mate? There's so many meanings and ways to take that, but your lids are so heavy and you can't quite think straight this late. You rub your face, tapping your cheeks to wake yourself up.

"Let's talk about this tomorrow, alright? We both need sleep. Do you mind sleeping here? I don't have another bed for you, Yeo."

"Can I not sleep with you?" He asks, following you to the kitchen with the bowl in his hand. You point as he drops it, and instructs him on how to wash his hands. As he scrubs, you answer.

"It's... complicated. Humans don't do that with people they don't know well. It's kind of, for being together?" You're not quite sure how to explain it to him, since, as you're watching him scrub his hands, he's not exactly... Human. You grab his hand as you see him scrubbing a bit too hard, probably close to tearing his skin.

He looks at you in confusion. "Are we not together?"

"Not in that way." You say simply. You see the curiosity in his eyes but he doesn't push you further, nodding slowly.

"Do you have a cage that you want to put me in then?" He asks softly, eyes cast downward. You see his ears drop as he waits for you to guide him to one. How long has he lived as a tiger? It seems like he's never been a human, mind still stuck in his animal body.

You shake your head. "I'm not putting you in a cage, Yeo. You can use the blankets I have on the couch and sleep."

His ears perk up. "So no cage?"

"No cage."

His grin spreads across his cheeks as he pulls you into a hug, thanking you softly at your hospitality. You wrap your arms around him slowly, head tucked into his chest. He smells like rain mixed with the outdoors, natural and fresh. You pull away slowly, before gesturing to the couch.

"I'll be in my room if you need me. Don't do too much damage around here while I sleep, alright?"

He blinks slowly, before nodding. "I won't do anything like that to my trainer."

"I'm not your trainer anymore, Yeo. And you're a human now. You don't need anyone to own you or train you, alright?" You say sternly. He wiggles his head up and down quickly. You flick off the TV, whispering a soft goodnight to him before walking into your own room and closing the door slightly.

Your head is spilling over with how many thoughts you have, but your exhaustion hits deeper than curiosity, immediately shutting your eyes closed.

—

Yeosang stands in the living room, tail flicking around anxious as he stares at the couch in front of him. How do humans sleep? He hasn't been one in a while, and he's not too sure how to do anything. The strange look that you gave him when he was eating out of the bowl is enough to tell him that he's not humaning correctly. You're already fast asleep, your soft snores making his tiger ears twitch. He moves the blanket to the side, slowly lying his body down as he stares at the ceiling.

A part of him misses the smell of the tent; enveloped with the sounds of the other animals around him as he slept. Opening his eyes to see you almost everyday, taking care of him in every way that you could. The way your eyes brightened up when he followed an instruction you said without much effort on your part. How you called him your big boy, your eyes shining lightly on him. Ever since you've entered the tent he couldn't keep you out of his mind.

He used to wake up every morning, ready to follow the same routine. Wooyoung grooms him, feeds him, he performs, he eats again, and he sleeps. He cares for Wooyoung, but the repetitiveness of his life dragged on, and he isn't sure how long he's been doing that same thing. But hearing your laughter as you practiced your jokes on him, your soft cries after the stress of a test got to you, and your content gaze as you read a book to him. You've changed everything, and once you left; things weren't the same.

Wooyoung didn't tell him anything, not one word fell from his lips. Not even a mention that you won't see him again.

Yeosang rubs his face, pulling the blanket over his body. He's not sure how he'll be able to rest, knowing you're in the room next to him. He breathes in the scent of you in the fabric, comforting to his nose, calming his rising heart. Your mere presence makes his anxiousness go away; he's not sure if he'll ever be able to leave you. His mate.

His.

—

The bright sun shines down on you as you tighten your lids, letting out a strained groan before blinking slowly. You try to stretch, but a grip on your body keeps you in place. You blink once.

Twice.

His body is pressed against yours, soft breaths tickling the hairs on your neck. His grip on you is strong, your behind pressed up against him with no room for surprises. You feel his fingers resting just above your crotch, lightly holding you. Before you could turn around and yell at him for being in your bed, you feel it.

His morning wood presses lightly against your ass. You try pulling away, but he groans softly. His tongue drags across the skin below your ear, hips lightly humping you. You feel your face flush as he continues licking and pressing himself into you, hands slowly sliding lower. You finally struggle out of his arms, and his eyes lazily open, looking at the panicked look in your eyes.

He furrows his eyebrows, cocking his head. “y/n? Are you okay?”

“I… fine, I’m fine.”

He reaches out to you but you take a step back. His eyes flick to the small movement, pressing his lips in a straight line. “I’m sorry if coming into your bed made you uncomfortable. I didn’t see anything wrong with it, but I’ll try not to do it again.” He rubs the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “Where is the restroom?”

“Down the hallway,” You point, and he nods, dropping your blanket back on the bed. “There’s a blue toothbrush in there. Do you know how to do that?” You avert your eyes as you ask, the heat coating your cheeks.You hear him scoff softly.

“I’m a tiger hybrid, y/n. Not a child.” He disappears down the hallway away from you.

You grab your toothbrush off your side table, avoiding the bathroom and walking into the kitchen. As you brush your teeth over the sink, you stare out the small window, deep in thought. You’re not sure what to do. There’s only a matter of time before someone comes knocking on your door, and if they see Yeosang; tail and all, it’ll only lead to more questions with little answers. Neither of them you have to give.

“I wasn’t sure where to put the brush, so I left it on your sink,” Yeosang says, walking into the room. Thankfully, there’s no more boner, but you’re still annoyed. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” He confesses. “I should have controlled my instincts better, I’m no longer a full tiger.”

“Why did you come into my room?” You ask.

“I… I couldn’t sleep there alone. And your scent swirls in the air. It’s comforting, but that wasn’t enough. I needed to know that you were okay, so I followed where your scent was strongest and rested with you. I haven’t been a human in a whole, so I didn’t realize that something like this would offend you. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

You see the regret on his face as he looks at you, and you nod. He’s learning, he’s trying his best and you can’t fault him for that. “I forgive you. Just, next time ask if you can sleep with me, Yeo. I would’ve had a heart attack…” If you didn’t wake me up with your humping. But you think it’s best to not talk about it. If he doesn’t remember, then you’ll just forget about it. He’s still a tiger, after all.

You rub your neck, the feeling of him licking your skin still there. You glance at his tight clothing, shaking your head. “Let’s get you out of those clothes-”

Your doorbell rings, and you tense up. You look back at him, pointing to your room. “Close the door and stay in there until whoever it is leaves. Some of San’s clothes are in my drawers, just grab one of them, alright?”

Yeo widens his eyes, “y/n-”

You shush him, watching as he disappears, tail following behind him.

You open the door slowly, eyes glancing up. His brown hair is as messy as usual, a bright smile on his face as he tips his hat to you. His dimples shine at you softly. His belt rests low on his hips, and you glance at the police officer badge that rests on his chest.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, y/n.” He smiles at you, tilting his head. You like seeing him, but you have other crises to deal with. His eyes flick behind you for a moment, before looking back at you. “H-How are you?”

You raise an eyebrow at the stutter. “I’m good, how are you? Still dealing with Jihoon and his wife?”

Jongho rubs his face, sighing loudly. “He keeps on bothering that tattoo parlor guy, you know? And then he comes to us and talks about his wife, I don’t think the boys want to hear about it anymore.”

You giggle, shaking your head, “Well, hopefully he’ll stop soon. So, what’s up? Here to arrest me, sir?”

You see the blush creep up his neck as he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and looking away, “Ah, you jokester. No, I presume you’ve heard about the missing tiger from the Kim’s Circus.”

Your blood runs cold as you try your best to keep a poker face as he continues.

“Yeoyang, I believe his name is?”‌‌ He frowns. “I’m not really sure, Wooyoung was in a panic and I couldn’t quite understand him. But then he mentioned you and I know you're doing that veterinarian thing, and-”

“You think I know where a thousand pound tiger is?”

"You know I have to check all of my bases," Jongho mumbles. "I know you'd never hide a tiger—" your eye twitches— "but I have to check anyway. Plus the guys at the station won't let me live it down if I didn't come up here." He looks at you sheepishly. "We haven't seen each other in a bit, do you mind inviting me in for some coffee?"

He tilts his head to the side, smiling softly at you. Any other day you would immediately say yes and invite him in, but from the loud drop in your room and thankfully, he didn't hear it, you have to resist his little dimples. You shake your head.

"I can't today Jong, I'm sorry. But maybe some other time? Raincheck?"

He nods quickly, smile never fading. "Of course! I didn't mean to bother you, I'll be on my way." He glances behind you again. "Call me if you see anything suspicious or get weird phone calls. Usually, there's someone who contacts people close to the animal and bribes in exchange for its safety. We can't have that, now, can we?"

You sense a shift in his tone as he looks at you. You've known each other for years, so he could probably notice that you're on edge, but just not know about what exactly. And you're thankful that Yeosang hasn't come out of the room.

"I'll tell you guys immediately, no questions asked."

"Good, well I'll see you around, y/n. Tell San I said hello!" He tips his hat once before turning around, walking down your steps.

You waved goodbye, closing the door softly. You hate to lie to him, and you honestly wish you could tell him the truth about Yeo. But it's best to be safe and not mention anything about him to anyone, unless absolutely necessary. Putting him in danger is the last thing you want to do. You wouldn't forgive yourself if he got caught or worse.

"Is he gone now?"

You jump at Yeosang's voice, turning to him. He stands there, soft yellow eyes narrowed as he looks at you. His face is scrunched up in disgust, eyes flicking over your figure.

"You smell like him," He moves a strand of hair away from your face. The featherlight touch of his fingers makes you shiver, his eyes still focused on yours. "Did he touch you?"

"No. And it doesn't matter if he did, anyway," You grumble, walking around him.

You don't see the way his jaw clenches, eyes closing to hold back his frustration. It isn't your fault; you don't know the meaning of a mate. Tigers usually have several in their lifetime, but he hasn't ever been moved by anyone other than you. And because of your human instincts, you don't even notice his advances. He thought it would be easier because you're a veterinarian, but it seems more complicated. He lets out a soft sigh, before following you to the kitchen.

"Where are you going to go after this?" You ask, drinking your water slowly.

He cocks his head to the side. "Where will I go? After what?"

You gesture to the boxes around you. "I'm moving out, Yeosang. I'm going to my graduate school soon. I can't stay here and babysit you."

His folded hands tighten slightly. "I'm not a baby, or a child. I am a hybrid y/n; just because I haven't been a human for long doesn't mean anything. I can take care of myself. I don't understand why you're being like this." He rubs his eyes, shaking his head. "You don't remind me of the y/n that took care of me. You seem distant."

Did he expect you to be filled with joy at seeing your tiger as a human? He's handsome, no doubt, but you have goals, things you want to do. And he's just a roadblock. You thought that you'd move on from the circus and explore bigger things. But him sitting there, tail resting behind him and two pairs of ears, all you can think about is the problems he brings you. Is that being selfish? Maybe. But you've been selfless your whole life. Caring about yourself once in a while is self care.

"I... Yeo—"

"Do you not respect me as a human?" His eyes widen as a realization hits him. "You've always been comfortable with telling me your feelings and ideas when I couldn't speak back properly, but now that I can, you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You are afraid of me,” his gaze flicks down to his hands, “You don't care for me the same way. Ever since I've walked into here, you've treated me like I am a stranger to you. I can see why this might be a bit scary, but I don't know if I can handle the space between us." He stands up, glancing around. You gave him some of San’s clothes that he left behind, and he wears it loosely on his figure, a bit too big on him. He closes his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “I can leave.”

“Yeo-”

“I don’t want to be in a place where I’m not wanted, y/n. It’s okay, I’ll leave.” He nods once at you, before glancing down at his clothing. “I know you feel more comfortable with me not being able to say anything, and that’s okay. Your care is my utmost priority, and I was being foolish, not seeing it last night. I can hear your heartbeat and feel your anxiety, but I assumed it was just from excitement.” His lips twitch. “I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“Yeosang, can you just listen to me for a second?” You say, your irritation growing. He stops talking, looking at you.

“This is all new to me, okay?‌ I don’t, I didn’t expect all of this to happen, alright? I never thought that you would ever be a human, and I’m honestly just confused and yes, I am afraid.‌ But not of you, just this situation. But I don’t want you to think I hate you or dislike you, because I‌ don’t. I just… I’m not sure how to deal with this. And yes, a part of me just wants you to disappear and go away. But now, I think, if you want, you can come with me to the city. My apartment has three bedrooms there, so you’ll be able to fit in there comfortably.”

His ears perk up at your words.

“I know it’ll take me a while to get used to you being you, and I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.” You smile at him softly. It’s been less than a day, but you’ve already grown a bit attached to him. It’s not like you want him to go, you’re just terrified. What if the people who made him half human, half tiger saw the news? They’re probably looking for him, and he could be in danger right now.

“It’s quite alright, and I wouldn’t mind going there with you.” He isn’t going to mention the mate thing for a while. He’s noticed that you avoid the topic. You haven’t even said a word about what happened this morning. “If you want me there.”

“I do.” You grin, and his tail flicks back and forth in excitement. More like a canine rather than a feline, but you’re happy that he’s happy.

His limbs twitch, wanting to pull you in a hug.‌‌‌ But he holds himself back, knowing that you’re not exactly comfortable with him yet. He glances around the room, before looking back at you. “So when will we be leaving?”

“In a few days.”

The few days passed by rather quickly, Yeosang becoming accustomed to being around you.‌ The incident from the first night didn’t happen again, you bought him a mattress to rest until you move to the new apartment. He’s kept his distance from you, similar behaviors from before when he was upset. But you’ve rarely seen anything but a smile on his lips as he walks around with you, eyes always on yours. The 69 on his neck catches your eye each time he displays his neck, although you’ve noticed that he prefers the long sleeved sweaters that you have. He curls himself up onto the couch most of the day, in and out of sleep. None of that is very much out of the ordinary.

The last few days he’s been strange. Immediately rubbing himself all over your clothing whenever you finished cleaning. Staring at you, and whenever you asked him what’s wrong he’d just sigh and look away. Tail sometimes curling around your leg as you wash dishes, scolding him before he moves away. His hands sometimes brush against your neck, his constant excuse that you had a piece of dust sitting there.

Growling lowly whenever you chatted with San, ignoring you. His chest would puff out as an act of aggression, tail completely still as he watches the screen. Until, you scratched behind his ears and he’d huff happily, quickly getting over his annoyance. You asked him what it was all about but he’d just change the subject. Those are only a few things that’s been bothering you, but you’re just not sure how to properly act around him. Maybe he’s noticed that you’re always on your toes?

The drive to your new apartment is about three hours long, Yeosang preferring to lay in the backseat, gaze on your sunroof. He doesn’t say much on the drive there, his body purring lightly as he feels the soft breeze from the open windows. You glance back at him from the rear view ever so often, your lips unable to hold anything but a smile. You can’t help it; you like him being around.‌

You’re used to staying at home alone, San sometimes coming over and bringing warmth to your home. But with Yeosang here, you look forward to opening the door and seeing him laying on the floor in front of the television set, ears twitch slightly when he hears you walk in. Lazily coming up from a nap to ask you what’s for dinner, and about your day. He hasn’t mentioned how he came to be or why he’s a hybrid, and you never push it. He’ll tell you when you’re ready.

You park in front of your new apartment, reaching back and poking Yeosang’s cheek. His eyes flick open, narrowing once they meet yours.

“Time to get up, sleepy head. We’re here. Remember to grab the hat and hide your tail underneath your clothing, alright?” You say softly, rolling up the windows. You hear a frustrated sigh as he puts on the beanie, curling up his tail into his sweater.

“There has to be more hybrids like me,” he mumbles. “The lab had so many.”

You look at him but he says nothing more about it, stepping out of the car. You lock the doors behind you, Yeosang running ahead, glancing back ever so often to make sure you’re there. You open the door, and he stands outside, glancing around before entering. He runs his hands along the walls of your new apartment, ears twitching at the new sounds. You say nothing, letting him grow accustomed to it as you walk into the bathroom to freshen up.

You come out quickly, hair wet from the quick shower you took. You look around for Yeosang, until you hear a large thump coming from the back of the house. You widen your eyes, jogging down the hallway before swinging the guest room door open.

Yeosang sits in the middle of the room, tail resting lightly behind him. He looks at you, a wide grin on his lips. “You made the room feel like a forest, y/n.” He points to the humidifier in the corner of the room, your biggest purchase and your bank account is definitely crying right now.

You painted the walls a dark green, almost black. You’ve researched that South Chinese Tigers live in damp forests, and you hope your poor man’s attempt at making him feel comfortable is enough. You put several plants around the room, decorating his bed with fake leaves. It’s the best that you can do with your pitiful almost-doctor salary. The bigger humidifier spoke to you, but that’s an investment for another time.

“The rug I bought and the sheets are coming soon. I know you like to lay on the floor a lot, so I bought that just in case you don’t feel like resting in bed.” You say, feeling your cheeks burn. It’s a bit warm in the room, but you’ve noticed that Yeosang hates the cold, always tucked under several layers of blankets.

“… You didn’t need to do this,”‌ he says softly. “I would have been fine with anything. I wouldn’t have complained.”

“I know, and that’s why I did it,”‌ you say simply. Yeosang isn’t one to voice his concerns, keeping to himself often. You realized that he hated well-done meat after a few days, catching him sighing as he looked at the meat placed in front of him. You’re not sure how much the tiger side of him affects his human body, so you cooked the meat for him rare. Right when you placed it in front of him, his ears perked up and he ate it quicker than anything you’ve previously given him.

“I want you to feel comfortable while you’re in our home,” You say, gesturing to the room. “I hope you like it, and if you need anything please just let me know. I’ll try my best to give it to you.”

He stands up from his spot, taking small steps toward you. Only a foot away, you see the flush of his cheeks, eyes focused on yours. Flicks of brown are in the bright yellow, something you haven’t noticed before.

“Can I hug you?” He asks softly. Your heart swells at his care for you, and you nod.

He immediately wraps his arms around you, pressing you against his cheeks. He sighs in content, and you feel his tail curl around your legs, nose sniffing your hair.

“Thank you for not pushing me away. I know this is hard for you to do, taking care of someone while still being in school. I know that, and I’ll try my best to help you in any way that I can.”

“You don’t have to do that, you being here is enough for me, Yeo,” You tease, combing your fingers through his soft locks. He leans into your touch, pressing you harder against him. You let out a small oof, and he laughs, pulling you away.

“Sorry, it just feels good, when you do that.”‌ He says simply. You pull your hand out of his hair, laughing awkwardly as you look away.

“Ha, well… I’ll go make lunch. Come out whenever you’re ready.” You say softly, and he nods, watching as you go.

He curses at himself, closing the door behind you. He’s overstepped, again. But he doesn’t know how to make you see that he’s yours, in every form of the word. Right when he breaks through one of the barriers you’ve put between the two of you, you build it up again. He glances around the room, seeing the small nuisances you’ve made, just for him.

It’s a comfortable warmth in here, but he saw how sweaty you were, wiping your forehead constantly. The dark colors that he would see if he was out in the wild, splashes of color ever so often. He always wondered why you were gone for hours at a time; seeing you covered in paint and tired. His eyes wander around the room, brushing lightly against the plants you’ve placed in there.

Tears coats his eyes as he sees the care you’ve done, all for him. When weeks ago, you told him that you didn’t know what to do with him. But now, you only give him smiles, tell him that you’ve missed him. And making this room, all for him, is only another extension of your care. Your love. Something you won’t admit to yourself.

He sits on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his light locks. Telling you how he became who he is, it can bring you great danger. And that’s the last thing he’d ever want to do. But, he can’t comprehend you being out of his life. Maybe telling you is the best thing to do. He looks down at his hands, seeing them tremble.‌ He swallows, nodding to himself.

He’ll tell you today.

You look at Yeosang as he pushes around the meat on his plate in deep thought, eyebrows furrowed. His tail flicks back and forth anxiously, ears perked straight up. He’s in a T-shirt, a rarity since you’ve bought him mostly sweaters. Is he uncomfortable? You know that it takes a second for animals to adjust, but the way he’s acting, you thought that he liked it.

“Yeo?” You say softly. He doesn't look up from his plate, eyes still furrowed. “Is something wrong? Did you need anything else?”

“No.”

You take the last bite of your food, standing up and walking into the kitchen, washing off your dish slowly. He’s always been open about his feelings, but now, you’ve never seen him so closed off. Maybe he doesn’t like the room? But he seemed so happy about it, it had to be something else…

Oh.

You pushed him away again, running away to the kitchen after playing with his hair. Is he offended?

“y/n?”

You jump at his voice, turning around.‌‌‌ His eyes are usually always on yours, but he’s distant this time, lips in a straight line.

“Can we talk in the living room? I think it’ll be best to explain it there. Don’t worry, this isn’t about you.” He says quickly, playing his dish in the sink. You follow after him, sitting in the chair across from Yeosang. He rubs his fingers together, before touching his neck softly, fingers running across the tattoo burned into his skin.

“When I was born, I was in a lab. I wasn’t a tiger in the beginning, and I wasn’t a human either. The people who took care of me told me that I am only a weapon, nothing more or less.‌ And that I needed to follow their every order, or else. I listened. I was taught how to move between being a tiger and an almost human,” He gestures at his tail. “I lived there with others. There were several different species along with myself, all predators. I don’t know the process, but I know that I wasn’t exactly born. I woke up in a closed room, I can still remember everything from then until now. I remember taking my first steps and turning into the tiger you’re used to seeing.

“But I got tired of listening to them. I am a predator. I couldn’t do it anymore.‌ So I broke out and left. Ran until I couldn’t run anymore. Lived in people’s backyards and abandoned homes, until I realized that becoming a tiger might be better. So I let the circus people take me. I learned that people don’t question animals, although the scars that cover me and the 69 pressed into my skin from the lab raised eyebrows, many assumed I was just a rogue black market tiger. And I was a cute cub at that time, so I wasn’t killed.

“The others, I have seen some. They’re not too far from here, and you probably haven’t noticed. Their appearance is more human when they transform. Jeong Yunho, Kim Hongjoong, those are only a few. Ah,” His eyebrows raise as he thinks. “Choi Jongho, your police officer friend.‌‌ He knew I was in there, in the apartment, but he didn’t say a word. I am forever grateful for that; he always told me that it’s a hazard for all of us to be in the same town, but I thought it was best for us to separate.”

He finally looks up from his hands. “It’s better to not mention the types of animals Yunho, Hongjoong and Jongho are. I want you to know as little as possible, in case someone comes and tries to figure out if you have me with you. I‌ haven’t been a human in a while, so they might not recognize me. At least, until they see the ears and tail.” He touches his ears lightly.

“I kept this from you to protect you.‌‌‌ But over these weeks, I've realized that we’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time. You’ve accepted me with open arms, and I’m forever grateful.” His smile grows as he looks at you. “I’m sorry I’ve kept this from you, but I can’t get into much more detail than that. If you want me to leave, do not hesitate. I will leave right now if you want me to.”

Silence fills the room as he finishes his words. You close your eyes, rubbing your face.‌ Yeosang is an experiment.‌ The government planned, or plans, to use him as a weapon. The lovable, wide eyed and big hearted Yeosang is supposed to be a deadly weapon. You completely understand why he didn’t tell you this immediately. The old you would’ve pushed him out of the door, scared out of your mind. You’re still scared, but you can’t imagine Yeosang being back out there. Even if there’s other hybrids, he’ll be at risk.

And you think it’s best if he stays with you.

“I don’t want you to leave,”‌ you say softly. “I can’t imagine you gone, Yeo. I think you’ve grown on me.” You tease, and he chuckles lightly. “Thank you for telling me this. I can’t even understand what you’ve gone through, but I’m happy you trust me enough to tell me.”

He nods happily. “I trust you, y/n, with everything. I just hope one day you feel the same about me.”

"What do you mean? I do trust you, Yeo. Why do you think I don't?"

He sighs, rubbing his neck slowly. You see him trace the outline of the numbers before he opens his mouth. "You... You trust me yes, but you keep yourself closed off from me. I try to push past those barriers that you have, but it's only so much I can do. I want you to feel comfortable enough with me. But I can wait."

"It's not that I'm not comfortable with you, it's that, I don't know. I don't know if something that I'm doing is bothering you, you know? Like earlier, when I put my hand in your hair—"

"I purred, y/n," he deadpans. "I like it when you touch me."

You look away from his piercing gaze, too overwhelmed with what to say.

"Have you thought about what I've said? About you being my mate?"

Yes. It occupies your mind more than you like, consumes your thoughts constantly. Yeosang keeps on saying that he's your mate so nonchalantly, as if he's telling you the weather. And you're not even sure.... No, you are sure that you feel the same. But your insecurities just continue to pile as you look at him, knowing that he can do so much better than you.

"Please tell me something, y/n. I can help you. I just need you to tell me." He says desperately. You shake your head, looking down.

Holding back how you feel will only gnaw at you until you can't take it anymore. You sigh, eyes fluttering close.

"I am, I, well... Ever since you told me that first night, I can stop thinking about it. Tigers, they have several mates over the years but many do stay with the one that they've chosen. So you telling me that you consider me yours, it's a big fucking deal. I just want to know why."

A knock on the door interrupts the two of you, and you throw Yeosang's hat to him, quickly wiping away your almost tears before rushing to the door. Thankfully, this one has a peephole. San stands on the other side, leaning against the wall as he looks out. You sigh, leaning your head on the door.

Before you open it, Yeosang's hands envelopes yours, stopping you from turning the knob. You look back at him, confused.

"Don't open it," he says softly, almost too low for you to hear. "I didn't tell you the last thing about me." His tail is stiff, pupils thin as he keeps his eyes on the door.

"I can't ignore him, Yeo. And it's San, he won't hurt a fly."

"No, y/n. He's not who you think he is. He pulls your hand away from the door, and you stumble back, confused.

"What the hell—"

"He's one of them," Yeosang shakes glancing at the door. "One of the new predators, y/n. I can smell him from here. He smells like—"

"y/n! Are you going to open the door or am I going to stand out here all day?"

Yeosang looks at you desperately. You glance between him and the door, weighing your options. You've know San for most of your life, growing up with the dork. He's never been weird or suspicious, always helping you when he can. Why would he be one the predators that Yeosang is talking about?

But the pure fear in Yeosang's eyes as he stares at the door, tail straight up and ears perked. His hands dig into the couch fabric behind him, frame rigged. He won't lie about something like this, that you know. He puffs out his chest, low snarls falling from his lips. His eyes are almost a brown as he focuses on the door, fear slowly replaced by anger, waiting for San to break down the door.

If San is who he says he is, he'll understand that you can't see him right now. You grab your phone, shooting him a quick text.

you: hey San! i hear u but i can't really talk right now! got too many boxes to sort through Hhhhh. ill call you when you can come over? drinks on me!

You hear the notification sound from outside the door, listening silently as he types into his phone.

san: u sure? i can help ya out if u want!

you: thanks ;; but im good for now! ill probably message u in the next couple days or so! ❤️

san: fine,,, u owe me gas money for driving over here :/ see you~

You hear his steps fade away, letting out a breath of relief. You look to Yeosang, the anger in his posture not at all gone. You walk over, wrapping your arms around his torso, listening to the rapid beats of his heart. His form slowly molds into yours, before you feels his arms resting on your back. His breaths slow down as he presses his nose into your hair, your smell comforting.

"Thank you for trusting me," he says softly. "I know San is your friend, but I know that something is off about him. He smells like the labs, y/n. He smells like the labs."

You nod your head as you listen to him.

"There are predators that are better than me, faster than me. He's one of the more evolved ones, easier to blend into normal human life. I didn't think I'd need to explain this, but the better hybrids know how to camoflague. Take the lives of existing humans and replacing them easily."

You pull away, looking up at him. "What are you saying?" His eyebrows are tight as he looks at you. His hand brushes against your cheek, before he rests his forehead on yours.

"Your friend, San. He was gone long ago. That is not the same San that you know."

—

Weeks go by and you've ignored San to the point where he doesn't call or text you. Your last conversation ended in anger, you telling him that you needed some space to adjust and him screaming at you about being unreasonable. You believed Yeosang, of course you did, but that conversation proved it to you. San and you, you never fought that hard before. He never called you a bitch so easily, never daring to cross that line.

But the San that you spoke to on the phone did. He called you every name in the book and more, before not contacting you again. You're not sure if he knows about you harboring Yeosang, but he gave no indication of it, thankfully.

Yeosang's been your only friend every since you've moved. You video call Wooyoung every once in a while, listening to his low drawl as he told you about the adjustments the circus made. They bought another animal in, a gorilla. You aren't sure if it's actually legal to own one in a circus, but you don't mention it, you just like speaking to him.

After the incident, Yeosang stuck to your side like glue. Everywhere you went, even to the bathroom, he's always close behind, tail constantly curling into your figure and hands always brushing against your skin. Sometimes, he rubs his head against the clothes you wear, encouraging you to run your fingers through his blond locks. His eyes always watch you as you do so.

You spend time in his room as he reads books softly; the deep timbre of his voice resonating around the room. Your sleeping arrangements are the same, you two in separate rooms. But once during the night you opened the door to him curled against the entrance, on guard as you slept. You scolded him softly before pushing him back to his room, but you suspect that he does it every night, going back to his room just before you wake up each morning.

You've accepted the title of being Yeosang's mate, not that you've told him of course. The threat of fake San barging into your apartment is high, and the potential for others to come is even higher. Yeosang is already stressed enough, and you think adding your feelings into the mix would only make it worse. Because, you love him.

It's strange to think about it. You've only met him as a hybrid a couple of months ago, but you can't even see yourself without his presence. He makes you happier than you've ever been, and his level of caring for you supersedes anything you've ever felt. You wake up and fall asleep, only thinking about him. As long as you see those golden eyes of his every morning.

You sit in the living room, combing your fingers through Yeosang's hair as you both watch a movie. You're lying back on the couch, his body resting over your legs, head on your stomach as you feel his chest rumbling in satisfaction at your touches. Your leg is falling asleep but you don't dare tell Yeo; he's just a big cat after all. He’d just grumble in irritation and whine for the rest of the night.

The scene flicks to the main characters pulling off each other's clothes, and you tense up at that. Yeosang doesn't move at all, watching in silence. The remote is too far away for you to skip, so you settle on watching it, fingers stopping in his hair.

The man begins fucking the woman against the wall, and you widen your eyes. What the hell? Do they not censor anything on TV these days? Yeosang’s hold around your waist tightens slightly, and you feel his head turn. You look down at him, seeing him sniff just beneath your stomach. You widen your eyes as he nuzzles your stomach, untangling himself from around your waist. He pressed his tongue just below your navel, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Yeosang, you can’t–”

“I know you want me, y/n. I can smell you,” He pushes his nose into your crotch, taking long breaths. “I can’t stop, not when you smell so good.”‌ His voice deepens, a dark gleam in his eyes. You’ve never seen them so blown out, pupils completely consuming the gold.

His nostrils flare, moving his face between your legs. You feel his fingers tease the lining of your sweats, keeping his eyes on yours.

“I can’t wait to fuck into you, feeling your pussy tightening around my cock, fucking into you so hard you can’t breathe. Wouldn’t you like that, y/n? Don’t you want me?” You can feel the sheer arousal emitting off of him, the desperate need that threatens to wrap around you. He leans down, eyes focused on yours.

“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me, and I’ll go away.” You feel the hardness of his cock pressing into your leg, his lips dragging across your cheeks as he waits for you to say something.

You clench your core, eyes fluttering as you feel the room suddenly become hot. “I want you, Yeo. I do.”

The pure evil smirk he gives you is sin incarnated. He pulls down your pants quickly, ripping off your underwear with ease. You lift your legs as he tosses your pants to the side. He tilts his head as he looks down at you, thumbs teasing your sweat up lightly. Despite his feverish behavior, he presses wet kisses up your torso as he slowly pulls your sweater over you.

You’re not wearing a bra, and he sighs in content as he sees your beautiful breasts on display for him. His rough tongue wraps around your nipple, nipping it with his teeth lightly. You moan softly as he moves to the other breast, sucking it softly. He continues to press kisses into your skin, paying special attention to the crook in your neck, licking it slowly.

“Yeo, please,”‌ you groan, feeling him smile into your skin. His lips trail along your jawline before his eyes finally level with yours.

“You’re so beautiful, and all mine.”‌ His words are filled with so much love as he looks at you, nose brushing lightly against yours. “I have to tell you, I don’t know what will happen when I‌ mate with you. Hybrids aren’t exactly animal or human. I wasn’t made for the purpose of reproducing, but I‌ have the instincts anyway.”

He presses his lips lightly to the corner of yours, shuddering softly. “I might be too rough. I don’t want to hurt you, so tell me to stop whenever and I will.”

“You won’t hurt me, Yeo,”‌ You say softly. He smiles, softly pressing his lips against yours. He tugs on your lower lip lightly, and you sigh softly, opening your lips up for him. He slides his tongue between your lips, slowly moving his against yours. His hand slides down your torso, lightly pressing against your lower lips.

Your hips buck into his palm as he dips a finger between your folds. He moves his middle finger slowly over your clit, enough to keep you just on the edge. You try humping against him but he laughs against your lips, other hand holding your hips down. You groan in frustration but he ignores you, moving agonizingly slow.

“Yeo-”

He shoves two fingers into your cunt before you could finish, you gasping against his lips as your hands tangle into his hair. One of your hands brushes against his cat ears and he shudders, biting onto your lip a bit too hard. You feel his teeth pierce the skin and he pulls back, eyes wide.

His fingers stop moving inside of you, the cloud of lust gone as he looks at the strands of spit and blood. “y/n, I’m-”

“It’s okay, keep going.”‌ You say, and he shakes his head. Your fingers rub against his ears again, and he stutters, biting his lip. “I kind of liked it.” You admit softly, and his eyes flick back open, desire rolling in them. He shoves his fingers back into you, moving in and out as he curls against your g-spot. Your breaths pick up as your desperate for release, telling him that you’re going to cum over and over.

He nods slowly, eyes on his hand moving in and out of you. “Come for me, kitten.”

The playful word has you convulsing against his hand, his fingers stuck inside of you as you let out a loud moan, humping softly against his hand. He watches you in awe, eyes bright. You let his hand go, and he immediately takes his fingers, sucking on them. He groans in ecstasy, licking off every last drop of you from his hands before lifting up his shirt quickly.

You clearly see the 69 on his skin now, but you didn’t know what was under his shirt. He always wears big hoodies around you for comfort, never wearing anything tight against his skin. His body is lean muscular, but scars are carved into his skin, tracing from the bottom of his neck to the middle of his stomach. He looks at you nervously, biting his lower lip. But you only lean up, lightly pressing your lips against his skin.

“Look at my tiger,” You say softly. You see the blush rise from the bottom of his neck to his cheeks, before he pulls off his pants. He’s not wearing any underwear, but you’re a bit surprised.

His cock has dark, jagged lines across it, the same pattern that he has as a tiger. He has a bit of fur were his ball hair would be, pink head standing at attention. He leans down, slowly humping against your cunt. You feel his thick length slide between your folds, coating his skin.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n,”‌ he says softly. After a few loose strokes and a whine from you, he presses himself into you slowly. His head is larger than any you’ve seen, and you groan, feeling the stretch of him open you wide.

The growl that emits from his throat is anything but human, cock pushing into you with a low pop. His girth stretches your walls as he slowly bottoms out, small whimpers falling from your lips as you feel all of him enter you. He presses soft kisses against your face, trying his best to alleviate your pain. You feel so full, his sweat dripping onto your body. You run your fingers along his back, slowly going down until you reach his tail. Before he could tell you to stop, you touch it lightly.

He thrusts completely into you, tears springing to your eyes. You feel his cock throb inside you, almost pulsating.

“Are you okay?” He says through clenched teeth, forcing his eyes open. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

“Yes, yes, start moving,”‌ You moan.

He goes slow, long strokes in and out of you as he grunts, trying his best to hold himself back. Your cunt sucks him in with ease, tightening each time he moves out.

“Fuck, y/n, I need to fuck you, alright?” He says, and you immediately know what he means. Before you can say yes, he slams his cock into your cunt. His strokes are quick and deep, your body flung up and down as he pushes into you. Your fingers clutch his hair, and he pulls his arms around you, pressing his chest against yours. Whimpers of pleasure fall from your lips as he slams into you, the wet sounds of your arousal echoing around the living room. He drags his tongue against your neck, sucking and pinching the skin.

“Want to breed you,” He says, hips thrusting into yours. “Fill you up with my cum,” He runs his hand along your belly. “I can see myself fucking you, I can feel you right here.” He presses lightly on your lower stomach, but you can only moan in response.

Yeosang’s pace is unrelenting, the head of his cock presses against your cervix each time he thrusts inside. He rubs your clit quickly, groaning into your neck. “Cum for me, pretty. Cum all over my cock.” He drags his teeth against your ear, biting your lob lightly.

He suddenly picks up his pace, hips pounding into you. The intense feeling of him rubbing your clit and fucking you into the cushions is too much, your moans echoing around the apartment as he pulls himself into you, cumming at the same time. His cock explodes, the white coating your walls. His cock pulsates as he slowly grinds himself into you, sighing into your neck.

After his cock goes limp, he pulls out of you slowly, holding his hand over your cunt, keeping himself inside. A small part of you panics; will you actually have kids with him? You haven’t even gotten your license to practice yet.

“You won’t have offspring,” Yeosang explains softly. “We’re two different species, it’s not possible, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

He brushes his hands through your hair, humming softly. His eyes are filled with love and adoration, pressing his lips to the corner of your brows lightly as he looks at you.

“I love you,” You confess, and he only laughs into your hair.

“I love you too.”

San stares at the monitors, glaring at the screen in front of him. He glances down at his cell phone as it rings, and he picks it up, keeping it on loud.

“Have you located SCT-69?” His voice says.

San nods solemnly, watching as Yeosang carries you from the couch, pulling your body close to him as he walks out of the camera’s view. His eyes flick to the next screen, seeing him take care of you.

“Affirmative. They’ve just mated, and he still believes that he won’t impregnate her.”

“Good, then let’s monitor until she is pregnant. We’ll take the thing when it’s born.”

San sighs, “But isn’t it just a kid,‌ Jongho? We shouldn’t…”

“It’s not orders from me, and you know it San. There’s no room for discussion, okay?” Jongho’s says, his voice irritated. “Call me when you need me, I’m hanging up.”

He hears the dial tone, and throws his phone to the side, deep in thought. He feels his friend’s hand rub his back lightly as San looks at the screen. All of this, everything just for an experiment. All that he’s built…

“She’ll be long gone before the specimen rips out of her stomach. It’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry,” Hongjoong murmurs into his ear, pressing his lips lightly against San’s temple.

“You’re right, I know,” he says softly. “This all will be over soon enough.”

_____

tags: @charreddonuts @changbinisms @woniepill @luv-quinn @crowhyun @atinytease @sunukissed @numxra @tohokuu @spooo00oky @kodzukein @cqndiedcherries

#fic: stranger #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fanfiction

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tyxoxo · 1 year

Text

Cherry Waves

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: thriller, angst, kidnapper/stalker jeno au, jaemin + mark inserts

words: 11.9k

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, murder, blood, knives, cnc smut, oral, fingering, choking/breath play, voyeurism, spitting, unprotected sex, its lowkey giving incel, post-traumatic stress, stockholm syndrome

(this is purely fiction, warnings in bold mean potentially triggering cotent)

a/n: the feds prolly looking at my search history like “👀” but on another note, this is the longest piece of writing i’ve ever published. so pls pls pls! send feedback! this was a rollercoaster of a fic to write ._.

major hugs and kisses to @glitchfiles for helping me decide on an ending and @pradajaehyun for proofreading!

playlist:

deftones - cherry waves • rosemary • bored • be quiet and drive

clams casino - blast

—

“i’m kind of scared. do you think it’ll bite?”

“noo, don’t worry baby. it won’t. squirrels are always welcome to food.” your boyfriend reassured you, chuckling in the presence of your endearing timidness.

the two of you were currently exploring a nature park, choosing to celebrate your 5 year anniversary in the outdoors, away from the bustling city life.

“here, just take the almond and approach them slowly, they’ll come.” he said as he handed you one to start, out of the bag that read Blue Diamond Almonds.

“how about you go first?”

the two of you shared a laugh, your partner nonetheless agreeing to demonstrate.

just like you expected, he took one almond in his hand and began to tread softly over to a family of kits, and a mother. the four were eagerly awaiting the treat, using their noses to scour over to him. one baby squirrel was more brave than the others as the rest halted once your boyfriend began to kneel down.

in one sniff and a switch of its tail, the squirrel grabbed the almond and hurried back to his family.

“see! not that hard! your turn.” he rose up in the process, standing close by in case you opted out.

“alright, here i gooo.” you geared up the courage, doing exactly as he did, approaching softly towards the group of squirrels.

you cocked your head to the side in curiosity at the fact they all ran away in unison, back into the green shrubs they called home. and with not enough time to save you, you heard the scuffing of shoes against pavement and a loud crack sound to follow.

as you turned towards the deafening sound, your boyfriend collapsed onto the floor, his head making contact with the concrete in just as strong of a crash that you heard just mere seconds before.

you weren’t sure if a scream managed to escape, as the hooded figure armed with the hammer made sure that you weren’t conscious to tell the tale.

—

the constant motion of your head banging against a hard surface is what stirred you. your eyelids were heavy, not just from the forced slumber, but from the blood that managed to seep down from your scalp and cake onto your skin. the familiar smell of iron flooded your senses, reminding you of your current state.

somehow you were moving, not on your own accord. you couldn’t have been... your hands and feet were bound with what felt like rope, based on the friction as it dug in your skin.

you were moving inside a van, laying down in a fetal position, with your boyfriend across from you doing the same; though he didn’t seem to be conscious.

it was hard to tell if he was breathing, due to the jounce of the van driving over rough terrain.

the entire vehicle wasn’t average, all of the backseats were gone, not even folded down into a compartment. it felt industrial, with what seemed like new steel framework covering the entire interior.

you lacked the energy to produce any sound, let alone turn to the direction of the driver's seat to see who was transporting you. the salt from your tears was the last you could recall before falling back into a deep sleep.

—

to say you reanimated back in the comfort of your own home, with your partner by your side would be the highlight of your life. to say that what all happened was merely a dream.

yet, your harsh reality was thrust upon you once you awoke again. all of your limbs were still bound, with the only appropriate action being observing where you were now.

you were placed on a cold, grey concrete floor, plastic tarp covering the walls and ceiling, with a single LED work light standing in the corner offering plenty of illumination. a standalone workbench was positioned against the left wall, with an abundance of mechanical tools to satisfy any technician.

you knew you were still covered in your own blood, but the smell wasn’t there anymore. instead the nauseating odor of overused bleach coming from a nearby bathroom overtook your senses.

your vision finally began to focus on your boyfriend who was lying directly across from you.

you weren’t sure if your attacker merely forgot to tape your mouths shut in a haste or simply didn’t care. either way, you used what freedom you had left to call out, your scream resonating enough to wake him up.

he winced, teeth covered in crimson from the aftermath of his blunt force trauma. once he met your eyes, tears began to well; relieved to know he was breathing, but pained to see him struggling for clarity.

he scanned the room, just as you did, then settled upon your crying eyes.

“are you okay?! please, tell me you’re okay!”

he was selfless just like always, more concerned about your well-being than his own.

“i-im okay.”

truly you weren’t. your head was pounding, and your arms were beginning to fall asleep from being bound.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you. im-”

“no! don’t say that! we need to get out of here now!” you cut him off immediately, not wanting his words to add onto the anguish you were already feeling.

“just stay there and i’ll come to you.”

you nodded as he began to shimmy along the cold floor, using his coarse shoe soles to push along the concrete.

he paused every other moment, most likely feeling dizzy from his injury.

your hopes were crushed when he was halfway. the sound of multiple door locks being fidgeted with, echoed throughout what you assumed to be the basement. the door creaked, and slammed shut even louder. your boyfriend stopped moving, knowing the end was potentially near.

the view of who or what coming down the stairs was obstructed by the tarp covered wall but within seconds, you saw a man.

who didn’t bother to cover his face.

you kept the fact that he was attractive repressed in your mind. it was more important to realize that you would likely die here now that you saw what he looked like.

he was tall, lean, and young. couldn’t have been much younger or older than you. with raven dark hair that was long enough to form somewhat of a mullet. his bangs covered most of his blank expression, though it didn’t take much squinting to realize his irises were black. an evil black.

your memory was too foggy to remember if he was wearing the same clothes as before. but the white dress shirt, and black slacks didn’t seem familiar; especially the black butcher’s apron.

he stopped at the base of the stairs upon seeing your boyfriend’s attempts to get close to you.

“we can give you whatever you want. we have money. take our cards, whatever. just let us go please!”

he ignored your boyfriend’s pleas, choosing not to even look at him. instead, his eyes bore deep in your own.

fear grew in the pit of your stomach. there were only a few things a guy like him would want from you and the thought of him taking not only your life, but your body shook you down to your bones.

your boyfriend must’ve assumed the same based on his whirling eyes between you and your attacker.

you wished to give him a name, something to represent his depravity. but all thoughts were paused once he began walking slowly in the direction of the workbench.

there was a toolbox and a rolled up utility belt waiting for him, it was just a matter of choice.

he rustled through the box, creating enough noise to elicit terror for the both of you.

it didn’t take long for him to choose one, the light in the corner bouncing off of the stainless steel bowie knife that he pulled from it.

he inspected the blade and it’s sharpness in silence, ignoring the sobbing coming from your disheveled body.

“kill me and just let her go!”

your boyfriend’s cries didn’t go unnoticed, as the mephisto of a man paused his inspection, eyebrows raising as if he would accept that offer.

seeing his side profile from his position at the workbench sparked faint recollection within you.

why did he look familiar?

—

Four Months Ago

—

jeno still wasn’t good enough at adapting to his new life of carnage.

how did he not know that a decomposing body would attract maggots, no matter how “clean” he kept his basement bathroom.

the life he claimed was an “accident.”

atleast that’s what he told himself.

but could a life taken after rejection still be considered an accident? maybe.

the girl took too long.

he cooked for her, provided clothes for her, gave her a place to sleep. yet she was never accepting of his affection.

it was just four days ago that he had to rush to the emergency room on his own volition, to have a laceration on his collarbone stitched. the bitch barely missed his subclavian.

he was beginning to be more lenient after holding her captive at his house for 2 weeks. though he wasn’t sure if there was a beginner’s guide on “how long it should take to actually let a hostage begin to roam your house.” but he learned his lesson after dinner, when she ran towards the kitchen sink and grabbed the sashimi knife.

every attending nurse asked what happened, but he continued to blame it on a “freak accident”: trying to transport a porcelain attachment on his shoulders, tripping and ultimately earning a gash.

somehow they bought it.

ten stitches later, he was discharged. seething at the teeth, he sped back to his house to finish her. he couldn’t have another slip up like that again.

that night he brought the blade into her neck, earning her a matching cut.

it was the first and last time she was ever brave.

now here jeno was, at a utility store in search of his first shovel. he wasn’t picky, he just needed something sturdy enough to help dig his first grave.

off into the distance, he saw you. innocently scanning the shelves for new vanity light bulbs.

you were absolutely perfect.

he felt a sudden magnetic pull to be near you, even smell you. but he had to resist the urge; there was a decomp job waiting for him at home.

it probably wasn’t a good idea to approach you either, as there was a possibility the smell of putrefaction was beginning to attach to his clothes.

from that day on, jeno had been watching you for months.

every outfit you wore, every doe-eyed expression, every bite of your lip was all for him.

even though the two of you were never formally introduced, he knew the proper time would come.

so far he had done well becoming acquainted from afar: he knew where you worked, your grocery store of choice, your primary care doctor, even your favorite drink at the local café.

there was still so much left to uncover. now, he set the goal of finding out your birthday, just to send a batch of flowers to your job when the time came; labeled anonymous of course.

but the dreams of becoming your admirer were crushed the day that jeno found out you had a significant other. he almost chucked the vase he was holding. he didn’t need a vase, he was merely there because you and your boyfriend were at a furniture store, eyeing a new couch for your living room. it was just a method for him to blend in.

he kept his composure so as not to draw attention nor have to pay the store for damages.

the boy you called “babe” was average, nowhere near your level. but you clutched onto him like he was the only thing that mattered.

what did he have, that jeno didn’t?

the obvious answer was you.

jeno sat the vase down before storming out of the store, causing the bell atop of the door to slam and chime throughout the showroom. you actually turned to the direction of the entrance, somewhat alarmed at how loud it rang through the store.

fortunately, you were too late to see him.

that night, jeno began plotting his second abduction. it would be a challenge, no doubt.

he would ultimately regret if you got hurt in the process, but with enough love, he could prove that he was sorry.

and now that his “ex” was taken care of, he could finally focus.

there was a small checklist he made within a couple of days: buy a van, have the backseats removed and fitted with steel.

luckily money wasn’t an issue. but he did get a few weird glances from the auto modifications shop at his request.

“you don’t seem like the type to want a van decked out like this?” the automotive stylist said while looking over jeno’s new 12-seater.

he was sly enough to come up with a lie, plus the amount of money he was willing to drop was all that was needed to seal the deal.

jeno considered himself well-equipped from first girlfriend, it was just a matter of time and preparation before you were his second...

—

Present

—

you couldn’t hold back your screams, not when the love of your life was on his knees, being held at knife point.

“please! stop! you don’t have to d-do this!”

you thrashed on the floor, tears painting your cheeks, mucus staining your upper lip.

jeno had dragged your boyfriend back to his original position with his knife in hand, eventually standing behind him.

he took a handful of your lover’s hair to cock his head back, exposing an array of veins lining his neck.

“i love you so much…” was the last you would ever hear, causing jeno to furrow his brow and snarl in disgust.

the life you once knew was taken in a slash, jeno’s right hand swiping the serrated blade along your boyfriend’s stained skin.

your ears rang from the sound of metal against flesh, all of the tendons snapping at once. velvet poured from the now-open cavity, splattering onto the tarp and jeno’s bare hands.

your guts felt twisted, hearing the gurgling sounds of blood clogging his airway. seeing his eyes roll back into his sockets. so lifeless.

jeno let the body fall on its own.

he was inexplicably satisfied. the pig you called “babe” was now out of the picture, merely a slab of dead meat.

you curled into a ball, letting your head fall to the floor, entire soul succumbing to emptiness.

you simply didn’t care if you were next.

jeno stepped over the corpse and towards you, knife still in hand. with a swipe of his nose, he kneeled down in front of your shaken form, the least bit bothered by the blood smeared on his septum.

you didn’t even flinch when he tossed the knife down, barely missing your chest when it came to a stop on the floor.

“when i come back, we’ll be formally introduced.”

with a click of his tongue he rose up, leaving as if he didn’t just rip out your heart.

it didn’t take long for your boyfriend’s blood to run across the basement floor, the rest clotting near his open throat.

you let the warmth of the dark fluid envelop you. soaking deeper and deeper into your clothes.

—-

“shhh. shouldn’t we be quiet?”

you heard the whispered voice of a woman, giggling in between her words.

your eyes fluttered open, taking a while to adjust from the tears that crystallized over your eyelashes.

how many hours, or days has it been?

based on the way your clothes were now brittle from the dried blood, and the sea of black covering the floor, it had been a while.

unfortunately, your subconscious wasn’t able to repress the memories of your dead boyfriend, not when his cold, stiff body was still on the floor.

his skin had blotched purple, showing signs of livor mortis, his irises a milky white.

“no its fine. come here.”

you heard the familiar voice of your abductor, as he ushered the woman down the basement stairs.

excitement littered both of their faces, the girl hopping from the last step and into his arms.

you didn’t care to recall her appearance, the only thing worth mentioning was her frilly dress and kitten heels.

did she not even react to the scene in front of her? a corpse, and your starving body, still tied up, on a soiled basement floor?

she continued to giggle, keeping her hands on his chest.

“this is amazing…you’re so fucking hot.” her ear-grating words were swallowed by the heavy kiss they shared, attacking each other’s mouths. if it wasn’t for the mess, you were sure that he would’ve slammed her against the tarp covered wall.

his hands explored her body, lifting up the ruffled fabric to expose her ass, squeezing ever so often to hear her whine in pleasure.

you tried your hardest to block out the sounds of their smothered lips. even slamming your eyes shut to fulfill the disbelief that flooded your brain.

“you know i did this for you right?” he spoke in between their labored breaths, pulling away for air.

“of course i did…now can i show you how grateful i am?”

he nodded, palming himself through his black pants.

the girl guided him towards his workbench, pushing his back into the chilled metal table, seeming dominant in her quest to show thanks.

her hands trailed down to his belt buckle, freeing the clasp. you could hear his zipper being undone, and the sigh of relief once she started touching him in the right places.

you didn’t have the strength to demand them to stop, nor the freedom to end your own life. either decision would only fuel her to go slower.

the she-devil got down on her knees, pulling down his pants, giddy at the sight of him with no underwear. his dick sprang free from its confines, snapping back onto his chiseled groin. the girl squealed in satisfaction, to see that he was just as big as her face.

a growl erupted from his throat as she took him in her small hands and licked along the underside of his cock.

she welcomed him in her drooling mouth, keeping her eyes glued to his look of satisfaction. he wasted no time fucking her face, eyes darting between you and the corpse he created.

you winced at every gag you heard, every tug of his lips between his teeth.

she was struggling to fit what she could, even tapping his thighs, signaling to stop. but he wasn’t concerned for her effort.

he was busy swimming in pure ectasy, getting off to the chaos he created.

through it all, you finally managed to mutter the words,

“please kill me…”

—

Day 2

—

the snapping sounds were becoming too hard to ignore. you couldn’t drown them out any longer.

your eyes focused on him again, attempting to stuff the rigid corpse into a large black suitcase.

he panted as he tried to bend the unforgiving joints, fighting against the effects of rigor mortis.

his frustration was growing with every trial and error. and the smell of rotting flesh wasn’t helping either.

you were too catatonic to react…it was just another day in his world.

he eventually succeeded, feeling pleased to have the remains covered before it continued its cycle of decay.

in the corner of his eye, he saw you wiggling in your restraints, trying to make your limbs come alive again.

“who was that girl?”

your voice was crackly, barely audible from dehydration.

“what?” he said with obvious confusion, pausing to look over at your crippled frame.

“the girl you were with?” you gulped afterwards, trying your hardest to lubricate your vocal chords with what saliva you had left.

“must’ve been a nightmare…” he spoke under his breath, shameless in his look of concern.

somehow you believed him.

and the mere thought of dreaming something so wicked disgusted you.

you watched as he finished zipping up the suitcase, taking off his vinyl gloves and tossing them on top.

he then made his way over to you, kneeling down to untie the complex knots on your wrists and ankles.

you chose not to look at him, fearing he would change his mind and leave you there to molder in sorrow.

“i’ve hidden my name for long enough…jeno.”

his eyes managed a subtle smile through his introduction; the naturally occurring feature strangely matching his exterior. if he wasn’t a murderer.

once the ropes fell loose, you could barely resort back to mobility. it felt unnatural to finally be able to stretch after so long.

but now that you were somewhat free, you finally realized how filthy you were.

“i’ve got some cleaning up to do…there’s a bathroom for you to use over there. freshen up and then i can take you upstairs to the kitchen.” he pointed with his head over to the ivory bathroom, which seemed to be the only clean spot in the basement.

he had the decency to help you to your feet, watching as you struggled to gain equilibrium. you looked away into the direction of the bathroom, indicating you could help yourself now.

you didn’t bother glancing over to the workbench, figuring he was smart enough to put away his tools and weapons. you didn’t have the energy to defend yourself anyways.

the bathroom wasn’t far enough away to miss the smell of a festered corpse but you hoped by the time you showered, it would all be a bit better.

to your surprise, the bathroom was fully stocked: unopened toiletries, feminine products, shampoo, body wash, lotions, towels, everything you needed to feel alive again.

laying in the sink was an oversized t-shirt, sweatpants and socks, all in a vacuum sealed bag, which you assumed to be jeno’s. or maybe they belonged to a former victim. it didn’t matter as long as they were clean. anything was better than the battered clothes you had on now.

you closed the door and began to undress, keeping your body towards the door incase jeno barged in to take advantage of your naked form. though you doubted anyone would want to see the current state you were in.

raising your legs to get inside the fiberglass shower proved to be a challenge, even bending down to adjust the temperature of the water made your knees buckle.

but you eventually managed to rid yourself of the dried blood and sweat; water droplets masking your tears as you watched the black clumps flow down into the drain.

—

jeno was waiting for you outside the door, leaning against the wall that was now free of plastic sheets.

everything was spotless, or at least that’s what you could discern through your hooded eyes. the floor was free of biomass, all of the tarp was discarded, and the suitcase was nowhere to be found. most of all, the horrid odor was gone.

jeno eyed you up and down, satisfied with the floral smell coming from the lotion he bought you. he was always a fan of rose, and he hoped you were too.

he reached out his left hand for you to take, but you rejected the gesture, instead hugging your sides and looking down at your feet.

you could get up the stairs just fine.

or so you thought.

just as your feet made contact with the first step, you tugged on jeno’s shirt for support as he led the way.

you managed to miss the faint smile that painted his face, as you were too busy trying not to lose balance.

once you made it upstairs, you took in the interior. natural white oak floors, a spacious living room fitted with potted plants, a curtained patio sliding door, a small tv, with a gaming console placed just underneath in the stand, a glass coffee table, and a single white boucle couch that was surprisingly free of any suspicious stains.

the same could be said for the kitchen, shiny quartz countertops, and all steel appliances. you began to doubt if he afforded all of this on his own, but then you thought back to his extensive basement. maybe his career supported all of his dangerous endeavors.

your stomach instantely growled upon sitting at the kitchen bar. so loud that jeno managed to hear it as he began rummaging through the drawers for cooking utensils.

“i guess i should tell you the reason that you’re here.” jeno huffed as he began chopping up the raw food onto a cutting board. your heart dropped at his words; you weren’t sure if you could handle learning the reason right now.

“i’ve been watching you for quite a while now…i just knew from the very first time, that i had to prove my worth. prove that i could be everything you needed.”

you knew you weren’t mentally ready to play along with his insanity, nor try to earn his trust so soon. with his level of denial, your strategy needed time.

all you could do was be a listener and soak in his confession.

“i know i’ve done irreversible damage to you, so i don’t expect forgiveness. but at least let me give you the support you deserve to heal.”

you chose not to reply, it was best that way.

maybe through the silence, he would come to his senses.

as he continued to cook, you tried to look closely for any hints of him lacing the food. you weren’t afraid to deny sustenance in exchange for starvation.

but when you realized he was making a plate for himself, you felt less suspicious.

jeno arranged the food to look delectable, and placed everything neatly on trays, paired with a glass of water. he stood across the kitchen bar, eagerly awaiting your review before he took his first bite.

you picked at the rice with your fork, and tried your best not to tremble when you brought it up to your mouth and swallowed a few grains. he frowned when he noticed you trying to hold back tears.

what was so sad about a plate of food?

“i didn’t do anything to it.” he said sympathetically, but you let the tears fall anyway.

having a meal with the man that kidnapped you wasn’t anything to be delighted about. nonetheless, you grabbed more and more, slowly beginning to feel replenished.

jeno ate with you in silence, every once in a while watching the tears fall onto your plate.

you were sure that the lack of food for two days straight was the reason for the onset of nausea that creeped inside your body. the food didn’t taste bad, far from it. but the more you ate, the more you felt like you couldn’t keep it down.

a couple of spoonfuls remained, and once you set down your fork, you eyed the couch behind you in the living room.

laying on a soft surface for once, sounded the most appealing.

“can you help me to the couch?”

you knew he wouldn’t turn down your request. anything you could do to earn his trust, the better.

jeno was quick to assist, first, gathering the plates and placing them in the sink.

“i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge, just let me know when you want some more.” he said as he walked briskly to your position on the bar stool.

you didn’t dare move.

his soft hands grabbed both of your own, clasping somewhat too hard to get you to your feet. you faced him eye to eye, waiting for him to guide you.

but there was no motion from either of you; his chest mere centimeters from your own. his irises were such an uncomfortable black, soulless.

you couldn’t look away.

sweat formed in your hands, which you were sure that he could feel. yet, he didn’t let go. a sniffle from your runny nose seemed to have snapped him out of his reverie.

with no further time to waste, he helped you towards the living room, keeping hold of your clammy hands as you sunk down into the soft material. you winced as you swung your legs around to lay flat but immediately exhaled in relief at the plush cushions hugging your entire backside.

jeno brought your glass of water to the coffee table, and scooted the tv remote closer.

just the mere sight of the remote made you wonder if turning on the news right now would show hundreds of stories on you and your boyfriend's disappearance. or any leads on the suspect.

your family, your goals, your passions, all ripped away by someone that “cared” about you.

why couldn’t you bring yourself to scream at the top of your lungs to fill the void?

the desperate need for rest overpowered everything else. this was the most comfortable you had ever felt in a while.

you closed your eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep to the sound of running water from the kitchen sink.

—

you missed the answer to your question just half an hour later. it was motivation.

had you heard the sound of heavy knocks echoing off of the front door. you would’ve made your presence known, whether or not it was the police.

a youthful male voice yelled on the other side.

“jenooo! open up buddy!”

then a different voice spoke,

“dude! we know you’re in there!”

jeno froze from drying the dishes, only his eyes looking in the direction of the door.

it was mark and jaemin.

he thought he made it very clear, for them to never show up to his house unannounced.

ever since he began seeking you out, he made sure to send a text to them stating that “he’d been going through a rough time, that it was best to have as much privacy as possible. and to always shoot a text or a call before coming over.”

guess they didn’t want to respect his wish.

he carefully sat down the ceramic bowl on the counter and bolted towards your sleeping body.

he didn’t even need to spike your drink, it was obvious you were going to pass out from sleep deprivation and mental exhaustion.

jeno knitted his brow in disappointment. you looked so perfect like this, ready and willing to take what he could give. and now his friends had to ruin it.

sadly, he didn’t have time to be gentle.

your eyes immediately shot open at the feeling of him gripping your waist with one hand, and covering your mouth with the other.

“don’t fucking say a word.”

he snarled in your ear, spit accidentally hitting your lobe from how hard he spoke. he wrapped his veiny arm around your hips, forcing you away from the couch.

you had more energy than he thought, preventing him from getting a good enough grip to hoist you over his shoulders. you kicked at the coffee table, managing to knock over the glass of water onto the hardwood floor. he saw you turn your head towards the direction of the door from the sound of a few more knocks, those probably being the first you heard ever since they arrived.

he suffered through the discomfort of you gnawing at his fingers as he dragged you back towards the basement.

your measly struggle only allowed a single muffled scream to bounce against the crevices of his hands.

as he kicked the door open to the basement, he switched positions, this time dragging you down by a simple chokehold, causing your body to slump from the lack of circulation.

your heels knocked against each step, no longer having the adrenaline to fight back. he hurriedly grabbed the duct tape on the workbench, knowing he wouldn’t have enough time to do a thorough restraint.

it pained him to toss you onto the hard floor, just when you were beginning to find solace in his home. but he continued to tape your mouth, and your wrists, ripping the strips with his teeth.

he added plenty to your mouth, knowing you were smart enough to try and lick the adhesive.

you were disoriented enough from your elbows and knees striking the concrete, that he was able to sprint back upstairs, locking you inside.

there wasn’t as much of a mess when he returned, just a glass of water shattered into pieces on the floor. he ignored it for now, already coming up with an excuse for the slight disarray.

he wiped his hands free of your saliva before opening the door.

of course the two were excited to see him.

“took you long enough!” jaemin exclaimed before reaching in for a hug. jeno didn’t return the embrace, choosing to remain cold and statuesque.

the two friends could sense the tension, coming to their defense immediately.

“now before you get pissed, we sent you hella text messages and you never responded.” jaemin stepped back, raising up the palms of his hands.

“yeah and we were beginning to worry. is it okay if we come in and talk? just thought it would be nice to check on you.” mark followed suit with his concern, hoping jeno would permit them entry.

secretly, jeno was squeezing his side of the door handle to death, and internally, his blood was boiling.

he had an entire human being probably thrashing around in his basement, and two unmarked graves of his ex and your ex in his backyard.

now wasn’t the time.

but they were already here, and telling them to leave wouldn’t be easy.

“fine. but you can’t stay long. i have to go grocery shopping here soon.”

a complete lie.

jeno stood aside to let them enter, remembering to bring up the broken glass on the living room floor as they took off their shoes.

“be careful, i dropped a glass of water earlier. let me sweep it up first.” jeno made sure they stopped in their tracks before walking over to his coat closet to grab the broom and dustpan.

he swept up the crystal shards in seconds, mentally praying that they would want to do something other than just talk in silence,

something to drown out the potential noises you would make from downstairs.

—

unbeknowest to you, jeno was trying his hardest to appear unbothered as the three took turns playing Street Fighter.

he kept losing, which seemed unlike him. and not once yelling at the screen was unlike him too. mark and jaemin noticed his lack of excitement, but couldn’t brush it off any longer.

“you sure you’re okay?” mark looked over at jeno once the match ended.

“yeah i’m fine.”

“we can stop playing if you want. i get you’re not always in the mood.”

“no it’s fine. i need the distraction…”

jeno looked down at his controller, finding that to be the better option than locking eyes with either of them.

“is work kicking your ass? maybe you need a vacation…have some time away from all the bullshit.”

jaemin did have a point, but you were more important. vacation could wait.

—

had you finally been rescued? had the police finally traced him?

the lack of commotion from the rest of the house left you feeling hopeless. maybe the detectives were doing a welfare check, which wouldn’t account for much noise. jeno didn’t seem like the type to attack law enforcement nor turn himself in.

he’d only had you all to himself for a day now, you doubted he would give himself up so soon.

you managed to stand to your feet, thankful for the rush that prevented him from taping your ankles together.

you tried searching his workbench for any signs of a sharp object that could cut your wrists free. of course he locked everything away, and there didn’t seem to be a secret compartment.

you then ran up the stairs and placed your ear against the door.

all you could hear were two faint voices other than jeno’s. but they weren’t loud enough to discern their position in the world. either way, you had to make your presence known.

the length from the door to the stairs was non-existent, which meant you couldn’t get a head start to ram your shoulders into the steel material.

the least you could do was kick and shove it, just enough to indicate a disturbance.

you did all the above; sure to make his visitors look in the direction of the basement.

you were beginning to get overzealous in your attempts. you just knew you were going to be saved now.

just as you stepped back to increase what momentum you had, you felt gravity pull you down towards the trenches.

without any assistance from your hands to break your fall, your entire body tumbled down the staircase.

the uneasy sound of a pop rang under your skin, traveling all the way from your ankle.

as soon as your twisted body settled at the bottom of the staircase, you instantly knew.

he was definitely going to dispose of you now.

—

jeno thought he could never truly be mad at you. but when you decided to cause a scene downstairs, he knew a punishment was in order.

luckily, mark received a call from his girlfriend saying she needed help installing a new router in her apartment, and since jaemin rode together with him, they had to leave.

your pandemonium just began as the two put on their shoes and said their goodbyes, making sure to stress to him that if he ever needed to “rant or vent”, to give them a call.

his demeanor was like a switch as soon as he shut the door, his eyes darting over to the now silent basement, jaw clenched so hard that he could’ve tore a muscle.

maybe you realized your fate, he thought as he power walked over to the door.

the scene in front of him was far from what he could have ever guessed: you were sprawled on your back, laying in a pool of your own tears. as soon as he caught sight of your injury, he put two and two together.

you fell and sprained your ankle.

a faint sigh left his lips, and he rubbed his eyes as if to erase the mess you were now in.

your sobs grew louder as jeno made his way down the steps, hoping he would gain a conscious by the time he made it down.

to your surprise, jeno didn’t pull out a knife, neither did he wrap his hands around your neck and give it a fateful squeeze.

he bent down, carefully gathering your crippled legs together. with one brief exhale, he brought one arm around the back of your neck and the other under your bundled knees. he rose up effortlessly, without any need to readjust his footing.

you winced into his chest at the feeling of your ligaments pulling apart even further from hanging in the air.

but the pain seemed to have subsided for a split second as you looked up at the man carrying you bridal style up the stairs.

blemishless skin, pink lips, long eyelashes—

you interrupted your outlandish thoughts, choosing not to label him as outwardly flawless. you could burn in hell if you ever admitted so.

—

your foot had completely mutated, like you had swapped body parts with an alien.

somehow you were alive, and that’s all that mattered.

jeno took the time to carry you to his bedroom and place you on his king- sized bed. you didn’t even need to ask for help as he swung your legs onto the semi-firm mattress.

his entire room sported a similar Scandinavian design like the rest of his house, with more plants hanging from his bedroom window.

“my foot looks disgusting…” you thought you whispered low enough under your breath, but jeno managed a chuckle as he started gathering extra pillows from his closet to elevate your swollen ankle.

it sounded foreign, but oddly comforting.

“well, you managed a pretty decent tear. just be grateful it wasn’t your achilles, or i would’ve had to take you to the doctor…”

“how long do you think?”

“mmhm, three to four weeks. as long as you don’t put unnecessary pressure, it should be pretty painless. i have some ice packs in the freezer but i need to go digging for some pain pills. do you need anything else before i go get them?”

“a glass of water and blankets please.”

“of course.” he nodded at each request, making a mental checklist and walking off in the direction of the coat closet to gather the blankets.

you scooted back in the bed, letting the headboard support you while you sat in an upright position.

it didn’t take long for him to come back with a handful of all the things you needed.

a glass of water and ibuprofen lay on the adjacent nightstand, two pillows were placed underneath your ankles, three assorted blankets were folded neatly at the foot of the bed, two ice packs were wrapped in microfiber towels, and the fully stocked bathroom was just a few steps down the hallway to the right.

you already had a brief discussion with him on needing assistance to go to the bathroom, though it left you feeling rather uncomfortable. then you thought back to him buying feminine products—maybe it was less awkward than you thought.

as the evening progressed, jeno remained by your side, scrolling through his phone on the other half of the bed. he didn’t speak much, only checking every once in a while to see if you needed to pee, too much in fact.

he quickly realized your slight annoyance from his fifth time asking, deciding to keep quiet for the rest of the night.

you finally managed to rest with your eyes closed once the ibuprofen took away some of the discomfort, and within minutes, you drifted off.

—

3 Weeks Later

—

your recovery was painless just like jeno predicted. within a week, the swelling and bruising went down.

in the second week, you were able to walk to the kitchen to heat up your own food in the microwave.

considering jeno worked from home and couldn’t leave his office space that often, you tried your best to be self-sufficient.

through it all, he continued to cook and clean, creating somewhat of a new domestic lifestyle that you never thought was possible.

once he finished work at 6pm, he would come out of his office and into his bedroom where you spent your time reading. he would always refill your glass of water and lift the ice pack to take a peek at your ankle.

you never admitted to him that you missed interpersonal relationships or profound conversation, but there was something deep within you that thought maybe he could see it in your face everytime he brought you a snack from the pantry without saying a word.

in all honesty, you were afraid to bring up anything from his past. it wasn’t like the two of you were together and you had no idea he was a murderer.

he showed his true colors from the very beginning.

every night he slept on the far half of the bed, always starting off on his back, with one hand behind his head. once he hit deep sleep, he shuffled quite a bit until he found comfort being on his side, sometimes facing you, sometimes not.

you never awoke to snoring or his body making contact with yours. most nights you would wake from a nightmare, though you did a decent job at hiding it. some nights you couldn’t handle the agony that plagued your mind, laying there crying for hours.

just when you thought jeno couldn’t hear your sublte cries, he did. but what could he do to make it better?

in the final week, jeno did some makeshift physical therapy with you, testing your range of motion while you sat on the edge of the bed.

he seemed to be in deep concentration, even making sure the room was silent so he could listen for any popping sounds that would’ve indicated more recovery time.

“i don’t know if it’s just me, but i don’t look as stiff anymore.” you said as you watched jeno gently rotate your ankle clockwise, then counterclockwise.

“you certaintly don’t feel stiff. i think we’ve done everything right so far.” jeno smiled, quite impressed with how well his methods turned out for you. he let your foot come back softly against the bed before standing up.

your breath hitched when he positioned himself in between your legs, staring down into your glossy eyes.

jeno pondered on the thought of bringing up your sleepless nights. but he didn’t know of a correct way, or if there was one at all. the only thing he could do was make sure you had access to one pain pill at a time, for if the day came that you left him, he would leave the earth too.

you had “been with him” for almost a month now, and you managed to last longer than he thought.

he admired you for that.

“will i ever know who you are?”

your voice gave out, dwindling into thin air. jeno watched as you dropped your head to conceal what dignity you had left.

he used a single finger to prop you back up, ultimately deciding if an embrace would make it better.

there’s no way it could.

—

Day 32

—

this was the worst nightmare you’ve had yet.

the scene was too vivid, too real to let go of.

reliving the day your boyfriend died ate away at your soul and spit out what sanity you had left.

each time he died, the more he spoke to you, as if he wasn’t dead.

“you see that i’m quite dead. how awful.”

though his neck had just been slit, he laid there…staring at you…speaking so monotone, so robotic.

“why do you make me experience this over and over again? wake up. wake up. wake up.” he repeated to you.

your blood-curdling screams filled the bedroom; yet another sleepless night for not only you, but jeno too.

it was only recently that you began thrashing around the bed and filling the silent room with your grief-stricken cries.

there was no trying to hide it now…the pain became too much.

jeno immediately rose out of bed, enveloping your shaken body in a full embrace, the first time that he’d ever done so.

you continued to wail as if he wasn’t there.

“where is he-i need to see him! where did you put him?!”

you continued to repeat your demands, rocking back and forth in his arms.

jeno knew what you meant, but he was sure you truly didn’t need to know. if you were this broken down from the nightmares, there was no way learning the truth could make it all better.

jeno knitted his brow as you continued to shuffle within his broad frame.

he would never admit this to you, but these past few weeks have been miserable.

he was beginning to lose hope.

spraining your ankle was probably the best thing that could’ve happened; as bizarre as that sounded.

the two of you spent so much time together, and even though jeno could tell you wanted to know more about him, there just wasn’t a right time. not yet.

his past and how he came to be was best left unsaid. not until you seemed “better”, as the heavy load of his own trauma would’ve only made it worse for you.

and now here you were, still not “better.”

within the time that you began to gain control of your breathing, jeno contemplated his decision.

he let go of your body, rubbing his eyes to adjust better to the dark room.

you watched closely as he made his way around to you and held out his hand.

for the first time, you took it.

it was if you were still dreaming, but no longer fighting your night terror.

he guided you towards the living room patio door, walking slowly enough in regards to your recently healed ankle.

you seemed to have forgotten that the backyard existed, as you were so used to being in your own purgatory. nonetheless, you were eager to see the outdoors again, yet still unsure why he was taking you there.

jeno used his non-occupied hand to push the curtains away before unlocking the sliding door, still keeping his other hand interlocked with yours.

a slight breeze hit your face as the two of you stepped onto the patio.

even in the early morning, the moon still illuminated bright against the deciduous trees swaying in the wind. petrichor emanated from the dampened grass, soothing away your stresses immediately.

being outside for even just a second made up for all the lost time you spent in captivity.

maybe this is why jeno brought you here, to finally let you experience the beauty of the outdoors again; to take your mind off the troubles of your nightmares.

you remained behind him, peaking over his shoulder to admire the forgotten land you once accustomed yourself to.

still no words were spoken as he lead the way into the yard. you continued to hold his hand, finding comfort in the creases of his palms.

he came to a stop in the middle, and appeared to have been looking down at something. you furrowed your brow as he let go of your hand, already missing the contact that kept you down to earth.

once you stepped aside to be shoulder to shoulder, you immediately realized what this was.

your wish had been granted.

in front of you were two raised patches of dirt, one seemed to have settled more than the other. it appeared that grass had been planted, in an attempt to speed up the rate of growth on the disturbed level of soil.

your world shattered—crashing into the depths of pure misery and sorrow.

you fell to your knees, the softened mud painting your pajama pants deep brown.

all the tears you could’ve cried remained back inside the house. this time, your chest felt tight, constricting any sign of emotion.

jeno remained blank, gearing up for the words that would change your life forever.

he bent down to your level, knees settling into the mud, eyes glossed over.

he waited for you to look up from the two graves, almost considering if he should do this.

you met his eyes, just as dark as the sky.

“this will probably be the last time you ever see him.”

to you, his voice barely sounded human, morphed into the monster he truly was.

you felt a surge of fight or flight—a passion to fight for your survival.

it all became a blur as you lunged forward, grabbing both sides of his chiseled face and connecting your lips to his.

you couldn’t bear to keep your eyes open as you kissed him. for you knew that this way of self-preservation would haunt you if you made it out alive.

giving him what he wanted all this time, seemed to be the only logical way.

jeno welcomed your lips without falter, as if this was the answer.

his lips were soft, mending against your own like silk.

your hands remained attached to his jawline, as he trailed down to grip your waist.

he squeezed you just right, not too hard like he’d done in the past.

you wanted him to take control, to show that he could do whatever he wanted. the whimpers that escaped your lips, told him so.

the kiss never broke, as you both rose and stood under the pale moonlight. his hands traced down further, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. he cupped the underside of your thighs within a single catch of your breath, to which you exhaled and whined, so gingerly.

he took your subtle detachment as an opportunity to connect your tongues, the feeling of warmth completely searing your insides.

you were too dazed to match the way his tongue explored your mouth, but the messiness ignited infatuation for how unique he tasted.

still, it could never be too much, not even the way your conjoined saliva dripped onto your tear-stained shirt.

there was no limit for how willing you were to submit.

he swallowed the whimpers that fell from your mouth, trying his hardest not to tug on your lips too harshly.

his hands pressed upwards on the back of your thighs, signaling that he craved more.

he clutched onto your ass as you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist.

you could feel the growth in his sweatpants increase the moment your breasts made contact with his clothed chest, nipples almost meeting together in the same distance across.

you were both harmonious in your attempts to get back inside the house; just the simple action of raking your fingers through his raven locks, encouraged him to move quickly.

he managed to walk through the yard with ease, taking only a brief moment to peek behind you to ensure he didn’t trip over the entrance from the patio.

during his journey to the bedroom, you buried your face into his neck, peckering on the veins that branched out into beautiful streams of blue.

your tongue found his racing pulse just as he kneed the door open to the room.

he laid you down on the edge of the bed, choosing to return the favor and kiss along your neck.

your hands couldn’t decide on a spot to grab, so you kept them tangled in his hair.

you had to be as convincing as possible that you craved this too, but it didn’t seem that hard to do when he caressed you in all the right places.

“i’ve waited so long for this, for you…”

his voice had gone even deeper, vibrating against your collarbone as he kissed there.

he continued further, meeting your chest that so desperately needed to be exposed. his teeth tugged on your hardened nipples through your cotton shirt, earning yet another whimper that bounced off the painted walls of the bedroom.

he was dependent on your noises of pleasure, desperate to hear every sound that told him he was doing well.

just as you blinked, he lifted your shirt, with not enough patience to take it the rest of the way off. his mouth latched onto your sensitive nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue every time he nipped it between his teeth.

he gave the same amount of attention to the other, swirling his wet muscle along every inch of your breasts. deep down, you wanted him to inch further towards where he deserved to be.

but you felt so sinful for thinking so.

he continued his descent, kissing along the flesh of your tummy and down to your pelvis. his eyes remained closed while doing so, as if he was already familiar with every feature of your lower body. you hadn’t even realized that he tugged your pajama pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor.

you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on him, though you knew he had a look of pure bliss; excited to finally take what was his.

you jumped at the feeling of his nose resting on your clit, even rubbing it back and forth, painfully slow. he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent that was bound to get stronger once he took off your panties.

your entire body jolted from his tongue tapping your sensitive nub, causing all of your blood to rush to that spot. he poked at a faster pace, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the ache in your core, nor nullify the guilt you felt from actually enjoying it.

he was teasing, obviously wanting to savor every moment that had no guarantee of happening again.

“all mine…” he purposefully whispered close to your clothed heat, the spurts of air hitting your dampened panties with every unhinged word he spoke.

you wiggled your bottom half, coaxing him into giving the attention you so desperately needed.

he was receptive to your attempts, immediately hooking his hands under the seam of your panties and pulling them off in one fell swoop. you kept your arms close to your upper body as a way to console yourself for how far you let this go.

he pried your legs open wide, pushing them back so they were bent at the knee. his hands rested on top, pausing to inhale your scent once more.

you kept the view below hidden with your arms, as the sight would be too much to take in. the mere feeling of him licking a single strip with his flattened tongue, from your puckered hole all the way up to your engorged clit forced a complete sigh of relief out of your body.

you covered your mouth with your hands as a result, conflicted on whether or not you should hold it in anymore.

judging by the pause, jeno wasn’t pleased with your concealment.

“don’t fucking cover your mouth.”

he spoke right into your pussy, eyes trained on your next move. you obeyed him that easily, placing your arms down at your sides to grip the sheets.

as soon as you looked down, you were met with a sight that would ultimately defy all virtue left in your sickened world.

jeno’s eyes were locked onto you, lapping at your slick with such determination to make you cum from his mouth alone.

his hands had moved from your legs to your thighs, making sure to keep you static through it all.

he did everything right—sucking on your clit, dragging it lightly between his teeth, covering every inch of your folds with his spit.

each time he propelled his saliva onto your wet cunt, you couldn’t help but try to close your thighs around his head; all purity soiled by the way he defiled your pussy.

you knew it would only get filthier from here.

he snaked his left hand down, the pads of his thumb coming to rest on your pulsating bundle of nerves. his other hand formed a union between his fore and middle finger, making a way to your entrance.

it was evident through your prolonged captivity that jeno would feel resistance as he eased his two fingers inside. he wasn’t as slow as you hoped, but if it was for the sake of prepping, you would take what warnings he gave you.

all three of his methods worked in reducing the pressure in your pelvic floor, but you still felt as though you could never truly be ready for his cock, mentally or physically.

“you can barely take my fingers, fuck…”

he took the chance to curve his fingers inside you, creating friction as he scraped against your spot effortlessly.

your entire world was spinning, and it was just the beginning.

he was steady as he fucked you with his fingers, never once loosing sight of how ruined you were.

the squelching from your walls suffocating his digits caused his sweatpants to feel uncomfortably tight.

he couldn’t wait to stretch you full.

the denial you onced claimed, began to wash away as you felt your orgasm approaching.

his pace increased, creating a rhythm that was bound to make you crash.

“i-i cant! please!”

jeno ignored your cries, utterly content with forcing it out of you whether or not you wanted him to stop.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair again, resting your fingers in his scalp as your whole body convulsed.

constellations flooded your vision, blinding you from the reality of your guilt. you couldn’t help but grind into his face, prolonging the peak of your climax.

all but his mouth left your pussy, his hands ushering your lower body even closer.

he managed to stay latched onto your beating clit, as your body continued to spasm. he truly didn’t want to leave that spot, as he found himself completely drunk off of what you gifted him.

the amount of your juices that painted his mouth and chin, was proof.

you barely had enough core strength to lessen the impact of your legs falling against the bed as jeno rose to his feet.

he undressed himself within seconds, tossing the items of clothing inside the open closet.

all you could do was lay there and be a tool, trying your hardest not to react to the size of his cock.

there truly wasn’t anywhere he could fit, not even in your mouth if he wanted you there.

you managed to survive this far, but you were already second-guessing your chances the moment he positioned his naked body in front of you.

there was complete truth in how perfect he was—toned muscles, smooth complexion, and veins that branched out in every direction, most notably in his arms and hands.

he was the epitome of virility.

you were merely just a vessel for him to use and destroy.

“take off your shirt.”

he stroked his length, watching you fumble with the piece of clothing bunched around your neck.

as soon as you discarded it, he lifted both of your legs up, letting his shaft plop onto your wet mound. the sound was filthy, an indication of how wet you were.

he started to glide his length up and down your pussy, practically wet humping your slick as if you weren’t overstimulated from his oral assault only minutes prior. you involuntarily jerked at the contact of his tip rubbing your abused clit, watching as he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth at your undoing.

he finally let his grinding come to a halt; tip stopping right at your navel.

precum leaked inside the natural divet in your skin, forming a pool from his arousal.

“pl-please jeno…i need you.”

you no longer cared if it hurt, all that mattered was being at his complete disposal.

he listened to your desires, finally conjoining your bodies as one. the stretch was uncomfortable, burning even. but the satisfaction that followed, negated every ounce of hatred you used to feel.

you attempted to breathe through the discomfort, but all you could produce was a gasp as he eased his way further. even through the pain, you could see in his face that you were his entire world.

his mouth hung open, eyes rolling back for a second before gaining focus on your effort to accomodate his size. a line of saliva fell from his lips onto his shaft, making more of a mess than was thought possible.

you were severely uncoordinated from the intensity of your previous orgasm, but that didn’t stop you from pulling him in for a kiss as he bottomed out. you moaned into his mouth, slurping on his tongue to taste what remained of your essence.

he furrowed his brow when you clenched down as hard as his girth would allow, sucking him further inside your cervix.

he finally took it upon himself to move, feeling resistance as he geared up to piston inside you. his hands made their way from your thighs to your neck, gripping hard enough to make a vein visibly pulse against your temple. you placed your hands on top of his, hoping he wouldn’t take that as a sign to soften his hold on your throat.

this was everything you wanted. the exhilaration of being on the brink of death, a stark contrast to how he’s made you feel before. tingling littered under where his palms squeezed, causing you to writhe in pleasure as he drilled into your pussy.

no matter how hard he squeezed, you trusted that he wouldn’t end you. not when he was completely buried in your walls, growling in your ear at how well you took his cock.

“you’re so perfect, taking my dick so well…” his words sounded muddled from the ringing present in your ears, you weren’t even sure you comprehended them correctly through the high building up inside you a second time.

you managed to let a moan escape through the restriction as he pushed both of your bodies higher on the bed, having enough skill to remain inside you the entire time.

jeno noticed your eyelids begin to flutter, a sign that you were teetering on the edge. he relished in the sight—your body slumped against him, your vocal chords attempting to produce noise but ultimately failing.

you were officially cock drunk, inebriated by how well he fucked you dumb.

even through the haze, you could see him enjoying every second, tugging on his lips to suppress the animalistic sounds brewing deep within his chest.

he finally took his hands away, allowing your senses to restore from the lack of oxygen. your chest heaved profusely, causing your back to arch as if you were being exorcized.

his stamina was still just as unwavering, never once losing rhythm. just as you gained control of your breathing, he pushed your legs back towards your head, simultaneously being in awe of your flexibility.

the sound of skin slapping hit against your eardrums with each strike, and now that there was a surge of pressure being applied to your throat from this new position, you could barely vocalize how flawless he was at hitting your spot every, single, time.

you could feel his length twitching, veins swelling, and balls slapping against your ass with every thrust.

your stomach tightened from the pressure against your womb, forming a wave that you were bound to drown in.

“i know you’re close…cum on my cock…fuck.” he gulped in between, trying his hardest to hide the shakiness in his voice. he was just as close as you were, ready to explode at any moment.

all it took was for him to pause and grind into you slowly.

and with it, came a cathartic release.

a string of moans finally escaped through your restriction, forming a melody for jeno to absorb in his frenzied brain.

unhinged groans fell from his lips as he emptied his seed; silken fluid overflowing and mixing with your own.

you clenched around his dick even harder than before, milking him for everything he was worth.

he stilled inside you for a while, practically putting all of his body weight on you while you remained in that position.

the back of your thighs were sure to have bruises from how long he had kept his hands there. but you wouldn’t trade those marks for the world.

you shuddered as he exited you without warning, shifting to lay by your side. even through the silence, your thoughts were loud.

he came inside you, and it was obvious that the aftermath of the situation plagued his mind too.

—

you pretended to be asleep. though jeno was a different story, which all worked in your favor. as the morning progressed, he pulled your backside into his chest, one arm resting on your waist and the other under your neck. it was a surprise to you, considering he never touched you in his sleep.

the main complication you faced now was slipping out of his arms without waking him.

you were still backed up against his front when you lifted your head to view the time.

the nightstand clock read 7:32am.

if you didn’t act soon, you would be put underground, allowing someone else to take your place and experience the same horrors as you.

you wiggled yourself to test his stimuli, no response. so you did it again, nothing.

you carefully lifted his arm that was on your waist and began to scoot towards the side of the bed. he stirred once, but not enough to fully rouse him.

the time read 7:37pm when you finally stood to your feet.

you could’ve made your way to the kitchen, but cleaning up was definitely a priority.

you treaded lightly towards the bathroom, not even bothering to bring clothes. as you stepped inside, you were met with abhorration.

the person you saw in the mirror was barely recognizable, ravaged beyond repair. and no matter how hard you scrubbed your body, it still couldn’t wash away the bruises or the remnants of jeno that had been sitting inside you for the past two hours.

hopefully by the time you got back to him, you would finally be purged of his undying affliction.

the simple action of grabbing a knife from the kitchen wasn’t so simple in your regards.

your anxiety started to rise as you entered the kitchen. there, laying on the counter, in a stainless steel holder, were your means of redemption.

it didn’t matter what kind, just as long as it cut deep enough…

the one you grabbed happened to be a paring knife; ideal for your method of use.

your hands were sweaty, making it difficult to grip thoroughly. but you managed with two hands, all the way back towards the bedroom. before jeno could potentially see you through the doorway, you switched your hands, positioning the knife behind your back.

he was still sleeping, peacefully.

the clock read 7:59am. any minute now.

you walked around to where his back was facing you; his slow and steady breathing being a complete imbalance to your racing heart.

you maintained a good grip of the knife as you slipped under the disheveled sheets, attempting to straddle him and in turn wake him up for his departure.

at first, he grimaced, wondering why his sleep was being disturbed. but once his eyes fluttered open, he smiled, blissfully unaware of your deception.

he turned onto his back so you could straddle him properly, his body heat greeting you like the sun.

he lifted his hands and started to caress your thighs, creating goosebumps along your tender skin. he seemed to be focused on the bruising, expression filled with pride at how hard he claimed you.

you fought with every fiber of your being to hold back tears as you lowered yourself onto his chest.

you met his soft lips for the last time. sealing his fate with a kiss.

you exposed the knife in your right hand before sinking it into his side, the impedance of his tough flesh trying to stop you from sinking the blade in deep.

you kept your eyes closed through it all, but you could feel his mouth open in shock.

your tears finally broke, and just as you felt them separate from your chin, you opened your eyes.

and stabbed again.

and again.

you flinched each time, waiting for a piercing cry, but there was nothing. his mouth hung open in agony, trying to produce a scream, but there was nothing.

his skin had turned pale, eyes dilated and whirling out of control. soon came the blood, painting your hands, the sheets, and his tepid skin.

you buried your face into his neck, hoping to hear his pulse slowly drift away.

instead you were met with his last words,

“you made it…”

—

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 9 months

Text

Bonten - Debbie Jelinsky (Afv) (M) Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Okay! So, I decided that the business partner, named Matsumoto Jun because I can't keep calling him 'Business Partner', is embezzling money from Bonten. Bonten is planning to kill him but the reader beats them to it. I hope this is what you wanted 🫓Flatbread Anon. — Benny🐰

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Sakūmou [Name], now known as Matsumoto [Name] has always been sensitive and delicate in outward appearance. His wide doe eyes and pretty smiles have always drawn in those who look for love in someone that seemingly needs their protection.

It really is such a shame though, that they had no clue what kind of monster they had just let into their life. They had no idea just how mush blood the unassuming and fragile looking man had on his hands.

And this too was the case for Matsumoto Jun, [Name]'s latest husband.

Matsumoto Jun, 46 years old, owns Matsumoto Industrial, a construction company that became very successful after gaining a partnership with Bonten.

Jun met his darling husband at a high end bar a year ago where he became absolutely smitten upon first laying his eyes upon the fragile looking [Name]. He was quick to strike up a conversation involving his business successes and his vast accumulation of wealth in an attempt to impress h/c-ette, and oh, was that the biggest mistake he ever made.

▪︎■🐰■▪︎■🐰■▪︎■🐰■▪︎

"Holy shit."

Says a shocked Sanzu as he looks through the window of the building opposite to them with the binoculars in hand.

"What is it?"

Kakucho groans in annoyance as he glances at the pinkette he was partnered with.

The two were sent to stake out the condo of Matsumoto Jun; one of Bonten's business partners who was suspected of embezzling money from Bonten; to make absolutely sure that they were in fact embezzling. It'd be a waste to kill off a good source of income over a false observation, after all.

So the two of them settled in on the roof of the building directly across from their target's condo and waited.

"Some guy just knocked 'im the fuck out. Well, looks like our jobs gonna be done for us. Let's go, I'm expecting some of the good shit later."

The pinkette smirked as he began to pack up some of the equipment brought with them.

"What? No! What if he ends up being fine after this? How would Mikey react to a failed job from you of all people? We should stay here and wait it out."

The partially blind man argues as he snatches the bag Sanzu was repacking and puts it off to the side.

The pinkette growls, muttering a small 'fine', before he looks through the binoculars again. He watches the unidentified man passed the window several times; grabbing several items and bringing them to another room out of view. The man then drags the unconscious target slowly across the room, clearly having trouble, before stopping midway and turning his head to the window. Sanzu flinches as it seems the man looks right into his eyes before he approaches the window and quickly closes the curtains.

"Shit. Did you get a picture of 'im?"

Sanzu asks as he quickly resumes packing up their equipment.

"Already sent it to Kokonoi."

"Matsumoto [Name]. Other names being Sakūmou [Name], Yamamoto [Name], Sato [Name], and [Surname] [Name].

He's currently married to your target, Matsumoto Jun, but has been married three times before now. Sakūmou Kenjirou, Yamamoto Taiga and Sato Shuichi were both found mysteriously dead in their homes with all of their finances depleted.

This guy seems to be a serial killer so you both need to be fucking quick; we can't loose out on any of our income, you hear me! I'm sending the Haitani's too, they should be there any minute now."

Kokonoi says quickly through the phone, belting out information as fast as possible as their time is running out.

On cue the Haitanis pulled in front the condo, meeting Sanzu and Kakucho on the side walk as the two fill them in on the vital information while they make their way inside.

"You remember our first date, Jun? Oh, it was so magical! You took me out to dinner on top of the Tokyo Tower and to top the night off, you got me this gorgeous mink coat!"

[Name] coos at his bound and gagged husband as he gracefully walks around him in a circle, tracing his hand across his chest, shoulders and back as he holds a pistol with the other hand.

The h/c-ette runs his fingers over the soft, expensive furred coat that he wore, smiling fondly at the memory. He stops behind the balding man and rests his hand on his shoulder, giving a harsh squeeze as he digs his manicured nails in.

"But it's not enough. You took me into your home, you provided for me, but did you love me? Really love me? ...So I— I killed. So I maimed. So I destroyed one innocent life after another. But aren't I a human being? Don't I yearn and... ache and... shop? Don't I deserve your love ...your money?"

[Name] whines out to him, face drawn into a pout as he swings the gun in his hand around with each enunciation of his words. His e/c eyes becoming glassy with unshed tears and his cheeks and nose flushing a soft pink hue.

"Mmnph hhmp hn ghmp hngh hmp"

The bound Jun attempts to speak through his gag to now avail, but [Name] can see how he generally feels from his confused and fearful expression.

The h/c-ette reaches forward and yanks the gag from his husband's mouth, allowing him to speak.

"I— I don't know what you mean by killing... But Baby, I‐I do love you, I promise! I still have so much to spend on you too. Just untie me a‐and it's all water under the bridge."

Jun pleads, his voice shaky as he tries to reason with his homicidal lover.

[Name] stares at him blankly; clearly unimpressed that he hadn't bothered to check on his finances and see that he was dirt poor now that [Name] had cleaned out all of his bank accounts in record time. Might as well let him know.

"You don't actually, I've made sure of that. You don't even have a penny to your name as of now, my darling Jun."

"B‐But that's— No no it's fine! I'm expecting quite a large s‐sum of money from my sponsor, in fact it should have already been deposited by now."

The bound man belts out in desperation, unknowingly sealing his fate from just that revelation alone.

The h/c-ette sprouts a wide eyed smile as he walks around to the front of the chair. He sits the gun aside on a nearby coffee table and grips both of older man's shoulders as he takes a seat on his lap.

"Oh? How much?"

[Name] asks enthusiastically as he flutters his long gorgeous lashes at Jun, running a finger up and down his chest sensually.

The balding man chuckles nervously as he gives his husband a shaky smile, thanking whatever deity that'll listen for allowing him to be a scumbag and start embezzling money.

"3.8 million. A-All for you, Baby."

"Really?... Well, it's just too bad that I don't believe you, isn't it."

The h/c-ette coos, whispering the last part into Jun's ear, as he runs his finger through what's left of the man's graying hair. He stands quietly before taking up his already cocked gun once again and settling it under his husband's chin, his finger on the trigger.

"3.8 million. A‐All for you, Baby."

"Really?..."

"Well shit, there's the proof."

Rindou whispered as he watches the seemingly resolved hostage situation from his crouched position next to the other three executives.

"You think he'll kill him or wil we have to step in and do it? He look pretty satisfied, right now."

Kakucho asks quietly, glancing at his coworkers for their input.

"I don't care either way, really. Hey, you think we can keep him? He's pretty hot, I'd love to get a taste of that."

Ran chuckled, a smirk spreading across his lips as his lustfully eyes trace up and down [Name]'s figure, undressing him with his eyes.

Sanzu groans as he stands abruptly, drawing the attention of the other three. Kakucho attempts to pull him back down but the pinkette aggressively shakes his arm off.

"Let's get this shit over with already. I' just remembered I've got some leftover Blow in my office."

He grumbles in annoyance, he's been sober for way too long and it's really catching up with him now.

BANG!

The sound of a gunshot resonates throughout the condo, the sudden noise startling the four Bonten executives and making them flinch in surprise.

[Name] sighs as he looks at the blood spattered on his once beautiful mink coat before slipping it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the sofa next to his deceased husband.

He looks at Jun's body, his eyes trailing down to his ring adorned hands. Grabbing the rings between his index, middle finger and thumb, the h/c-ette tugs them off of the older man's thick fingers. [Name] smiles, admiring the three rings in his hand for a moment before slipping them into his pocket.

"You know, Jun honey, I would've liked you more if you just gave me the business.—"

The e/c eyed man cood as he stroked his dead husband's bloody cheek.

"—It would've helped if you could've gotten it up as well, but guess it's my fault for marrying a tubby old man, huh."

[Name] stares lovingly at the corpse for a while, stroking his cheek with the backs of his fingers and playing with his blood matted hair.

"Now... What do I do with your body? Hm?"

The h/c-ette asks rhetorically, only to be startled by a voice behind him.

"We'll take the body, pretty.—"

Ran chuckles as he wraps an arm around the e/c eyed man's waist and pulls him in close so the shorters back is flush against his chest.

"—Don't worry, we're not the police, we're Bonten."

And for once, [Surname] [Name] felt like he was prey instead of predator.

🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴•♡•🎴

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

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ov105 · 1 year

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Short: Hush

After refusing to upload this for a day, Tumblr finally budged! This took a lot longer than I wished to write. Well, who can blame a lazy student right? I can only keep the industrious facade for so long. Some irl experience *wink wink* helped crank this one. (This is not a retelling.)

This is the prequel to Noise.

3,360 words of Park Sieun

Enjoy!

University. The four years of your life where you can make or break the rest of it. At least, that's how I saw it. The high pressure, an unfortunate side effect of such a perfectionistic pursuit, required sacrificing many things that I saw as necessary at one point. I was enrolled in a program that took all the time. Studying most nights, usually holed up beside my bed or in the library, tonight felt just like any other. It was a routine I'd gotten used to, but sleep's siren song called with so few people at this hour. The custodian wasn't even around, just a single librarian at the first-floor desk. It was a weekday, the last where we needed to be on campus, and there was a holiday tomorrow and the weekend after that. I didn't feel like going to my dorm, but I didn't want to be lazy.

I study alone. Group study never appealed to me, though a friend here or there would come. People I know knew my routine well.

A message lit up my phone screen. It was Sieun.

[Hey, you're in the library?]

[Yeah] I replied.

[What floor?]

[5th]

Sieun didn't respond after that. There was no elevator, so I only assumed she was on her way up the stairs. Seeing the door open and her come through, laptop and textbook in hand as she waved at me. She asked me the cliched question as she laid down her stuff.

"You read that other chapter yet?"

"Nope, barely halfway with this-," pointing to my screen, the pdf opened.

"-Aish, quit studying; you have the whole weekend anyways!" Sieun jokingly exclaimed.

I wasn't. I was just reading other things.

"Oh well, you're right, bye-bye!" I replied, pretending to close my laptop.

"Yah! Don't leave me here," she replied, shutting me down, "I don't want to go home yet, so do whatever you want."

I knew Sieun had a lot of friends, I didn't have much, but they were just as introverted as me. I was probably overthinking it to have a girl from class join me; she was a coffee shop kind of girl. Even more confusing, she was known to be nice to everyone, everybody's friend, but she was smart about it, not becoming a stereotypical caricature of the more socially well-endowed. Typical of an overthinker like myself, I didn't question her company if it didn't make me uncomfortable.

"Oh, you too, huh," I said as I opened my phone.

"What?" Sieun asked, confused.

"When you don't feel like going home, you just hang around somewhere."

"Oh," she seemed to relax, "Yeah, when I don't feel like greeting too many people."

“Besides, I’m an introvert anyway, just happens that I’m just an attention-seeker as well.”

“I can tell,” I replied.

She grabbed her headphones from her bag, holding it in my direction, "Wanna watch?"

"What you watching?" I asked, hoping to myself it wasn't some blood-boiling thriller drama.

It was a rom-com—nothing I find stressful. I agreed, then Sieun told me to scoot over beside her.

I didn't know how long or what time it was, but we were still waiting for someone to come up to tell us to go home. It wasn't that late. Before I knew it, we were six and a half episodes in. We sat comfortably and moved now and then, not to lock our muscles up. I had my right leg up, with my left hand dangling in the space between the chairs. Keeping my focus on her laptop, I didn't mind, nor did I want to overthink her gesture; it was a cold hall.

That was until I felt her right hand slowly gliding over my thighs, barely feeling her fingers over my pant leg. But she wasn't doing well if she attempted to be discreet. Sure, I knew what to do, but I was just too unsure, so I whispered.

"Sieun."

"What?"

I simply pointed down where her hand was. A smirk appeared on her face.

"Oh," she whispered, a blush joining her smirk as she looked up at me. At least, she tried to.

"I've heard some things about you lately."

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I knew what Sieun meant. I always let my lips loose whenever I was inebriated, though I knew secrets were always off-limits. Unfortunately, that meant my arrogance stuck out, perhaps a little too much to disregard myself. She let out a chuckle.

"Don't regret it now," Sieun said, looking at the door before matching my gaze, having a different look in her eyes, mere inches away, even in the dark. She wanted something from me.

"Don't worry, I'm the right person to hear about it," she slowly said, noticing her left hand already tugging at my arm, pulling me in.

Sieun's eyes then darted for a split second to my lips. She then shut her eyes—a soft smooch—and the next thing I knew, I was opening mine. We were much closer now. I was probably red because she was too. I was, however, sober; her words echoed; why would she be the right person? It was impossible to think straight; I just swallowed my pride.

"Just give me a chance," she said, almost in a whisper, taunting, "I know you'd want me too."

Wait. Did Sieun just ask me if she could do me? Was I being gaslit? Didn't this scenario only exist in movies? I swore I panicked for a second.

I just smirked, then gave a peck on the lip as an answer. Almost throwing herself on me, returning more than just a peck, it had collapsed into a full-on make-out before I could even count to ten. My hands were on Sieun's thighs and neck, with hers on mine—a handsy affair. It was a side of her I hadn't seen before or one I only expected to happen in printed fiction. I knew everyone had their own pervert, and mine was a tomcat on the prowl. Though now, even the wildest I've heard of seemed tame. All because this was reality.

"I never thought you were naughty," I quipped.

"So did I."

Wanting to see how true that was, we kept pushing and pulling with our lips, not noticing how handsy we were becoming. Sieun was softly groping the bulge between my legs and, with my right hand, moved down from her neck, mirroring hers, three fingers pressing where it was the warmest.

"Wait, wait, wait," she pulled away as I tried to move up her sweater.

Standing up, Sieun closed her laptop, the drama having run away from us becoming steamy, straddling me into an embrace, pressing herself right up to my face before using her fingers to point me upward and back to her lips. It felt electrifying, the room becoming colder and warmer as our lips approached each other. She was going somewhat slower now, and noticing my hands were idly gripped to her thighs, she grabbed my wrist and put it on her waist. I wasn't planning just staying there, going down and slipping upwards under her sweater; the problem was that it was in the way.

Giving me one loud, suckling kiss, she moved back, almost forcing herself to. She hurriedly pulled her sweater off herself and dumped it where she sat. Grabbing my left wrist again, but now putting on her right tit, squeezing the moment my palm landed on it.

It was small, little by anybody's standards. After all, Sieun was petite. To make myself clear, I laid my lips where I felt it, even with the shirt on. Being so exposed where we sat, anything beyond the sweater was off-limits, but she already had untucked her shirt when she took it off.

Though as we continued to make out, I slid my hand into it, and firmly grabbed her tit, feeling the soft mound held in place by her bra, cursing that fact in my head, only to be distracted by Sieun suddenly darting her tongue out when I did. If that was so, then so should I, softly squeezing with my left hand, my right moving back to her ass and copying it. A slight jolt came from her as she grabbed my wrist from under her and pulled away.

"Let's not do this here," Sieun said.

"Couldn't you have said that earlier?" I replied, annoyed.

"I just got carried away," she sounded sad.

She was thinking of something.

"Alright, let's go to my place after this," Sieun said. I just agreed with her.

Giving me one more kiss, she got off of me. Looking at where she was gazing, it was on the large old shelves of the archives room. Filled to the brim with cardboard boxes, some empty, others half-full, and more empty, yellowed-out periodicals, and some published medical and law reports. But as an imaginative kid with too much access to the internet, I always thought it was the ideal place for a quickie.

Looking back, she knew I had checked out the same place.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked as she tied her hair.

I just nodded. I had no idea.

Before I knew it, she flashed me a smile and darted off. I stood up and followed her into the room as she turned into a shelf with a higher shadow, having long forgotten, hard-bound folders stacked above it, creating a shade. I stopped. For a second, the old legends my grandmother told me flashed back, one of the pretty fairies that lured young men into the hills, just for them never to come back down.

But now isn't the time for tall tales, even if it felt like one.

Following where I last saw Sieun, she dragged me to the window sill. Gently pushing me against the wall as she planted her lips on me again, much more tender this time, with her hands on my chest. I was running on instinct, driven by the perpetual motion of her lips. All sorts of images popped up in my head, the least of which involved carrying her and fucking her raw then and there.

A storyboard straight out of a manhwa—that was stretching it—but I was already in her pages anyway.

After making out for a bit, and now with me up against the shelf, Sieun looked around before dropping down to my crotch. Her squat turned into kneeling as she grabbed and undid my belt, putting her left hand under my crotch and massaging my balls through my boxers. The feeling of butterflies in my gut quickly left as blood pooled on my cock, sparing her at least a quarter of the work as she pulled my boxers down and took it in her hand.

Sieun was not shy. Looking up at me as she opened her mouth and pointed her dick at it. Her tongue made a swift flick on the tip before wrapping her lips around it, tugging at it as she went to work. It was a quickie, after all, and there'd be no excuses if somebody came past and caught us. Thankfully for her, the past few minutes gave me plenty of images to be erect quicker, the best of which was the feeling of her mouth doing me.

I felt my breath begin to shorten, maybe even shake, as my tip got harder and, thus, more sensitive. Taking a hand off and hearing a slight gulp as my cock enlarged in Sieun's mouth, a slowly rising pace to come along with it, maybe even a hushed moan as the world seemed quiet at that minute. Looking down to see my cock firmly wrapped in her lips as her tongue glided up and down slowly, needily, and readily. The tip brushed against the top of her mouth as every vein on my shaft was pressed by her tongue. She gave herself a few dips as she tried to settle in a pace; the last of them went too far as her lips hit my crotch. Gagging, her face turned sour as she pulled away, suddenly catching her throat.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Sieun said as she swallowed, reassuringly saying, "I-I'm fine, it’s just been a while."

Regaining her composure, she puckered, then wrapped her lips around the tip, starting slowly at half length before going all the way in. This time being more careful not to make herself gag again. So she went, continuing where she had tripped earlier, the whole hiccup not even being counted to ten. Setting a speed that left me holding on to the shelf as she closed her eyes and reveled in her work. Seeing her head twist slightly to the left as she wasn't using her hand, I could hear a low humming as she sucked on my shaft. Almost going down the same way and hitting the back of her mouth, though this time she wasn't going that far and enjoying herself.

Thinking that was the end of me, she reluctantly pulled her lips away and licked my cock upward.

"I'm not going to say this any other way," she followed, "You got a good one too."

An ego boost. I would even think it was an unnecessary one.

"You're not lying, aren't you?"

"Hmm?" Sieun said with half my shaft in her mouth, giving it a few tugs with her lips and only stopping when she felt the slightest twitch of my cock on her tongue, asking back as she kissed it.

"Am I lying now?"

I didn't answer. It was enough an answer either way. Sieun eased her head back down on it as she continued. Thinking I was to be carried away easily, she suddenly sped up, even catching me off guard as I felt myself shudder when my tip hit the back of her mouth. What made her stop wasn't a gag this time, but rather the loud suckling that her lips made, once, twice, three. She stopped, then suddenly looked up and saw the surprise in both our eyes.

Realizing her error, she had no way to go but slow, which meant teasing me much more. I just hoped she was the type to swallow.

Closing her eyes, Sieun then formed a ring with her index finger and thumb; she kept her lips tightly sealed while her tongue circled my tip. Catching me off guard when she slipped it over her tongue and dove down, feeling the tightness of her lips and the pressure of her tongue as she slowly got deeper close to where her fingers were at. She just had to top it off, looking up at me—as if waiting for a compliment—while she passed every vein and let the pressure slowly build up.

Keeping at that for a good minute, she ensured I lost track of time. By that point, she knew that she was just dragging me along by that point any faster, and I'd explode down her throat. I became more sensitive as she tasted the precum, seeing her eyes react as the secretion came onto her tongue. So, she enjoyed herself, tilting her head and probably moaning quietly. On my end, my breath was already shaking, and I was biting my lip.

I was always shy with dirty talk. Though if there was anything like a "romantic blowjob," this was it.

I've yet to hear of one-night stands that get too attached. But Sieun was in the same class; this would either end awkwardly or something was up. Then I remembered what she said earlier, but before my brain could fly away, thinking itself to death. I was brought back down with one swift swipe of her lip.

Looking down to see Sieun picking up the pace as my knees began to buckle under the sensual barrage from her front; she was anticipating me to break any moment now. I just knew that it was a thin line for her to cross, but whatever confidence she had now, she was not misplaced. Going deep and only deep, save for a few tugs at the tip, as keeping my mouth shut became much more challenging.

Pulling away with a loud pop, she kept it going with a handjob.

"You like it?" she asked.

This was the worst time to ask. It's like Sieun paused the porno.

I just nodded like an addled boy. She licked her lips and smiled.

I took a big gulp as her lips engulfed my shaft again, knowing I was at my last straw. Just one tight slurp after the other, and I was just about done for.

A thunderbolt. A single swipe of Sieun's tongue sent me shaking, curling, drowning. Her lips barely held the saliva in a while, and my twitching became quicker, using everything she could to try and make me cum. Just barely crossing the threshold, though this time, it was her making the noise. Leaving any sense of awareness as she moaned and hummed to herself as she tried to rein my shaft in her mouth. Feeling her mouth tightening, it was the death knell of me, whether it was me imagining it or it was her intent, but I just knew this was it.

When I went quiet, I knew my end was up. My jaw dropped in silence as my knuckles began to turn white, holding onto the shelf. Sieun's eyes, the only way I could tell anything from her, shot up in surprise as my cock, her lips midway, hardened and began bursting in her mouth. Perhaps, a little too early, the second spurt, a warm, gooey one that made even me jump, as it hit the back of her mouth. Feeling an instinctive gulp and watching her react as the rest followed. Slowly moving while her eyebrows furrowed, probably surprised by the sheer volume or taste, trying to keep it in her mouth, fighting the urge to swallow, while her tongue stayed where it was. As my orgasm died down, and having done her bidding, she slowly eased back.

It was perhaps an unintended consequence on her end that I'd let out that much cum. I just hoped she wouldn't be too mad. Slowly taking her lips off, my cock was covered in drool but looked clean, except for the tip, which had expended itself.

Sieun put her hand under her face, probably to spit it out. Looking up at me before she drew her hand away and swallowed it all, but not without some discomfort in her expression, then licked her lips before stating the obvious.

"That's a lot," she said as she stood up, "and hotter than I thought."

"What?" I asked, a little confused, while I pulled my boxers up.

"Everything, the blowjob, where we are, um," Sieun stopped.

"What is it?" I asked again.

"No," she hesitated, "I'll just tell you on the way down."

Not wanting to ruin the mood by prying, I just scoffed, letting her go. We then left the shelves like nothing had happened. It might have been witness to other couples doing more daring things than a tame, silent blowjob. Sheepishly walked back to our table, and while thankfully nobody came, it seemed like a ghost town with how late it was. Just two bags and personal belongings strewn on the table, forgotten by their owners. I had lost track of time from when she kissed me, but I knew that was a lifetime ago.

There was a sense of silent urgency among us as we packed, flashing a shy smile or two as we knew we'd be doing a lot more once we got to her place. Leaving the room, what she did next surprised me and made me feel warmer than whatever we just did. She put her arm around my elbow. As we made our way to the staircase, we decided to go the route that prevented us from seeing the librarian's desk. Sieun then put herself beside my ear and spoke up almost in a whisper.

I turned red, shy even, but with a tug, there seemed no need to run.

#stayc #stayc sieun #fanfic #kpop fanfic #smut

424 notes · View notes

velvainee · 19 days

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✦ ⎯⎯ ㅤִㅤ ୭ 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑦 ( dr.wick x reader )

ᨳ ꒰ précis ꒱. oneshot. In 2236, Dr. John Wick leads "Wick Industries" in human experiments to extend life and youthfulness. But behind the facade of progress, test subjects like you are unknowingly involved, their consent ignored.

୨ৎ warnings. manhandling, non-con, forced relationship, breeding, evil intent, large age gap, p in v, blackmailing, mentions of blood, torture, bdsm, size kink. dead dove. do not eat. 2.6k words.

𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, this is my first fic on this blog ! please excuse any mistakes and lmk if you like it, reblogs comments & likes are very appreciated! if you have any requests for another fic don’t be afraid to reach out. ( has not been proof read ) !

As you step into the sterile corridors of Wick Industries, the faint hum of machinery fills the air, a constant reminder of the scientific endeavors unfolding within. It's 2236, an era where the boundaries between progress and ethical considerations blur into a murky haze.

You find yourself here not out of choice, but out of dire necessity, your financial woes pressing upon you like a weighty burden. Volunteering as a blood donor is your ticket to survival, a means to secure the funds desperately needed to support your ailing mother and keep a roof over your head.

You needed the money, your mother's illness draining your savings faster than you could replenish them, while the relentless march of automation threatened your livelihood in the retail sector.

With each passing day, the gap between what you earned and what you needed widened, leaving you with little recourse but to turn to unconventional means to make ends meet.

A giant in the industry, Wick Industries looms large in the landscape of scientific research, its reputation as a leader in biomedical advancements drawing both admiration and scrutiny.

When news broke of their call for volunteers to participate in cutting-edge experiments aimed at extending human youth, you saw it as an opportunity—a chance to alleviate your financial woes while contributing to the greater good. Little did you know the true cost of admission into this world of scientific ambition and moral ambiguity.

Entering the facility, you're greeted by the sight of a bustling lobby, volunteers milling about in varying states of anticipation and apprehension.

The air is charged with nervous energy, a palpable undercurrent of uncertainty running through the crowd as each individual grapples with their own reasons for being there.

At the registration desk, you join the queue, your heart pounding in your chest as you inch closer to the counter.

The old woman behind the desk is brisk and efficient, her voice a steady rhythm in the cacophony of voices around you.

“Next,” she called out, an old woman behind the counter waved her hand, urging you to move forward.

“ID?” She spoke. Your hands making their way into your little pink hand bag as they shuffled to take out your wallet, waiting for the nod of approval before tucking your things back into your purse.

“Third door down the hallway to the left,” she directed.

Guided by her directions, you navigate through the maze-like corridors of the facility, the sterile environment and the click of your heels against the polished floors adding to the surreal atmosphere.

The waiting room is a sea of faces, each one bearing the weight of their own struggles and uncertainties, their eyes betraying a mixture of hope and trepidation.

As you take your seat among the other volunteers, you can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie tinged with unease. The steady stream of departures catches your attention, prompting a question to the person beside you.

“Why are people leaving?” You ask.

Their answer, though matter-of-fact, does little to assuage your growing apprehension.

“I hear the doctors are looking for a specific blood type within the volunteers,” the man next to you replied, his eyes going back to the bright screen of the phone he held.

Amidst the ebb and flow of volunteers, two figures emerge, their presence commanding attention as they make their way down the line of chairs. The older man's piercing gaze sends a shiver down your spine, while his companion's whispered exchange only serves to heighten your sense of foreboding.

When they finally reach you, the weight of their scrutiny feels suffocating.

The bearded man leans in to murmur something inaudible into his assistants ear, the man’s eyes flicker in your direction.

“Her,” he whispers slightly, their eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

As their stares bore into yours, the man’s assistant gestures for you to stand, and you comply, feeling a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. With a barely perceptible nod from the older man, they lead you away from the crowd, down a series of sterile corridors lined with gleaming metal doors.

Down the labyrinthine corridors you go, each step bringing you closer to the unknown. The air grows colder, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and trepidation. What awaits you behind those imposing doors remains a mystery, one that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness with relentless persistence.

Finally, you come to a stop before a nondescript door, its surface devoid of any indication of what lies beyond. With a silent exchange, the older man and his assistant confer, their words lost to you in the deafening silence of the corridor.

As the door slides open, revealing a sterile room bathed in harsh fluorescent light, you steel yourself for what comes next.

Alone in the room with these enigmatic figures, you can't help but feel a sense of trepidation. Their welcoming smiles offer little comfort, their words ringing hollow against the backdrop of uncertainty that looms over you like a dark cloud.

"Welcome," the man with the clipboard begins, his voice a mere whisper in the vast emptiness of the room. "My name is Dr. David. Thank you for volunteering,”

As the assistant quietly slips out of the room, leaving you alone with Dr. John Wick, a sense of unease settles over you like a heavy blanket. Yet, in his presence, there's a strange calmness that washes over you, his reassuring smile and soothing voice momentarily easing the knots of tension in your stomach.

"Please, have a seat," he gestures towards a chair, his tone gentle yet authoritative. You comply, sinking into the plush cushion as he takes a seat across from you, his piercing gaze never leaving yours.

"Let me assure you, you're in good hands here," he begins, his voice smooth as silk. "Wick Industries is at the forefront of groundbreaking research, and your participation in our experiments is invaluable."

Despite his words, a nagging feeling of apprehension lingers at the back of your mind, a whisper of doubt that refuses to be silenced. Yet, you push it aside, clinging to the hope that perhaps this is just the opportunity you've been waiting for.

“I’m Dr. Wick—but please, call me John,” He gives you a charming grin once more, reaching out his hand for you to shake.

As he continues to speak, his words seem to fade into the background, your focus shifting to the way the harsh fluorescent light casts shadows across his angular features.

“Tell me about yourself,” he speaks up once more, trying to strike a conversation with his patient.

There's something magnetic about him, something that draws you in despite your better judgment.

“There’s not really much to me,” you chuckle softly, a pink shade flushing against your cheeks.

“I work in retail—heard of the small cafe Allure? Im a barista,” you say bluntly, as if you were having a normal conversation with your friend.

“Ah really?” John turns to you, his brown eyes boring into yours. “I’ll have to try it sometime, I’ve never been,” he revealed.

Your conversation starts to become more intimate, sort of like you’re speaking to a therapist.

"You're special, you know," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "There's something about you that sets you apart from the others."

A flush creeps up your neck at his words, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. His proximity is intoxicating, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting.

“People don’t usually say that about me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes, yet you felt cared for, embracing the feeling of praise.

“A shame for such a pretty girl like you,” He jokes, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

You find yourself hanging onto his every word, his charisma and intelligence captivating you in a way you never expected.

As he shares stories of his past achievements and future aspirations, you can't help but feel a sense of admiration for the man before you.

But beneath the surface, there's a tension that simmers, a palpable electricity that crackles in the air between you. You can sense the shift in his demeanor, the subtle change in the way he looks at you, as if seeing you for the first time.

As the conversation lulls, he rises from his seat, his movements fluid and purposeful. With a slight smile, he disappears into the adjacent room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Minutes pass, the silence broken only by the soft hum of machinery in the distance. And then, he reappears, a small vial in his hand.

"I've prepared something to help ease the discomfort during the blood extraction process," he explains, his tone reassuring. "It's a simple elixir, but it should make the experience more bearable."

You nod, accepting the vial with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. As you raise it to your lips, you can't help but wonder what exactly is in the concoction he's given you.

But the pain of the extraction process looms large in your mind, overshadowing any doubts or reservations you may have.

With a deep breath, you swallow the elixir in one swift motion, its taste bitter and metallic against your tongue. And then, as the liquid courses through your veins, a wave of dizziness washes over you, your vision blurring at the edges.

You reach out for support, but John is already there, his strong arms catching you before you hit the ground.

Your head throbs, the sensation reverberating through your ears as you grimace in pain, your face contorted in a grimace as you watch the overhead lights flicker rapidly.

Panic surges within you, your heart racing as you realize your arms are restrained above your head, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into your skin. Your feet barely brush against the worn tiles below.

"What the hell?!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with fear. Memories elude you, leaving you disoriented and bewildered.

Surveying your surroundings, you find yourself in a stark white room, its pristine walls offering no solace. A single door stands in the corner, ominous in its silence as you hang suspended in the center, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the sterile space.

Suddenly, the door creaks open, revealing Dr. John Wick as he steps into the room. Clad in gloves and his white coat, he exudes an unsettling air of authority as a wave of realization washes over you.

"What's happening?!" you demand, your voice trembling with uncertainty as fear grips you tightly.

"Hush now," John soothes, his voice calm and measured as he approaches you.

Despite your frantic struggles against the chains, he moves closer, his hand deftly manipulating a remote control in his grasp. With a click, the chains lower, the sound of metal clanking echoing in the sterile room as your body descends.

“I didn’t lie about how you were special,” he smiles creepily, now eye level with the man as he lifts your chin slightly.

“We just need to text you for some experiments, nothing too big,” he added, hot tears already brimming your waterline.

“P-Please get me out this isn’t what I signed up for—“ You whined, your wrists still trying to undo the chains that bound them together.

“I’m sorry but I cannot do that. You’ll be my little test bunny for today, is that alright with you, love?” He chuckled softly.

You shriek, tears already streaming down your cheeks as John’s fingers stroke against your jawline.

“You wouldn’t want to let your poor mother die now, would you?” He whispered, leaning into your ears as you grit your teeth, jaw clenching.

“Your mother has been transferred to a better hospital—under my industry. Resist and you die, let me use you this once and I’ll ensure your mother’s safety,” he’d add.

Before you are able to say anything, he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapping it around your head.

Your body stops shaking, your mother was at risk and you were unable to do anything.

He first took a knife from the steel cart that was placed against the wall across from where you were, his movements precise as you felt your clothing slither from your body, down your legs and eventually onto the ground.

Unable to resist, you stood there, crying, your makeup making marks on your cheeks as you shuddered from the embarrassment you felt as you were exposed to the older man.

“So young, so beautiful,” his voice tantalizing as he admired your curves, his hands starting to graze against your skin, the goosebumps visible from your fear.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s only procedures,” he teased, before pushing the button on his remote once more, your body lowering down as you gazed up at the man like a dog.

His fingers made their way under your chin, lifting them up slightly before he slowly undid the handkerchief.

“Please don’t scream, you’ll only make it harder for yourself,” he rambled, his lips now pressing against yours as you moaned in both surprise and disgust.

His tongue swirled with yours, the both fighting for dominance as he held your jaw in one hand, the other one starting to undo his pants.

John’s eyes glinted with a cold detachment as he advanced towards you, his movements deliberate and predatory.

“I promise, you’ll like it,” he drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance as he surveyed your trembling form.

You tried to protest, but the words caught in your throat as he pinned you against the wall, his hands rough and possessive as they roamed over your body.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he leaned in close.

“Resistance is futile.”

You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine despite the fear that gripped your soul.

“Please,” you whispered, but the desperation in your voice only seemed to amuse him.

With a smirk, he silenced you with a bruising kiss, his lips crushing yours with a ruthless intensity that left you gasping for air.

And as he claimed you as his own, you found yourself surrendering to him completely, your body a playground for his darkest desires. Each touch sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through your veins, your cunt throbbing with a mixture of agony and ecstasy.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else - a twisted kind of love that dared not speak its name.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he watched you squirm beneath him.

You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his touch ignited within you.

With a guttural grunt, John released his load deep inside your cunt, his cock throbbing with the force of his climax. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of pleasure from his pulsating shaft as he claimed you as his own.

“Take it, you filthy whore,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he buried himself inside you.

“You like being used, don’t you?”

You moaned in response, unable to deny the twisted pleasure that his rough treatment ignited within you.

Each thrust was a reminder of your submission, a testament to the depths of your depravity.

As he reached his peak, his grip on you tightened, leaving bruises in his wake as he marked you as his property.

“There we go little bunny,” he sneered, his words a cruel echo of the pleasure that coursed through your veins.

And as he finally pulled away, leaving you empty and spent, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. In his arms, there was no room for love or tenderness, only the raw, unbridled passion of two souls consumed by darkness.

♡ 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑

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simp-ly-writes · 6 days

Text

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.7)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: Kidnapped, heartbroken, and thoroughly pissed off, you become a one man team- breaking through restraints, into houses and cars to find a way back home.

Warnings: 5000~ words, light swearing, blood, violence, torture.

A/N: these chapters keep getting longer and longer it seems. I will try and hold back my yapping... anyways! hope you all enjoy! :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | un-edited.

Body bruised and scraped from being thrown around with the various landscaping tools around you, your head slammed against the door as the vehicle came to a halt. You took deep breaths in and out, picking up the dead-fish smell in the air. You were near the industry sector and by the sounds of the gravel crunching beneath everyone’s feet, you were upshore.

Three slams against a metal door and it creaked open and you pushed inside, stumbling with the bag over your head and losing balance as your feet were chained together as well. Shuffling back to a stand, the men above you laughed before a bucket of ice cold water was drenched over your body making you instantly shiver.

Breathing in through your nose sharply as the bag was then torn off your head, you found yourself lazily strapped to a wooden chair- it creaked everytime you shifted your weight. Eyes blurry to the newfound light, you blinked a few times before the once blob in front of your face turned into features and a broken-toothed smile was gracing just before your lips. Their cigarette breath causes bile to rise up in your throat yet you kept a natural expression, staring between their eyes to the crooked bridge of their nose.

A cigarette was being lit to your left side, they flicked the ashes on your suit as the sparks burned against your skin. Taking a quick glance down, you tried not to frown seeing your once beige suit now a tattered mess of brown and grey with various cuts breaking the soft plaid pattern. The head man, the one to choke you in the first place, takes a step back and sits on a metal chair behind himself, taking a drag of the shared cigarette before mockingly dangling it in your face. “Want a drag, dearest?”

You make no comment, just staring off past his shoulder, silently observing your surroundings for more clues. You press your head against your shoulder, mocking a scratch behind your ear as your comms flood your eardrums once more. Samantha is crying and losing her actual shit as John raises his tone at one of the nearby officers- not allowing him to check the security footage. That makes sense as to why Samantha is currently losing it- more unnecessary work to hack into the system.

Thinking to yourself, this is more relaxing, getting to sit down and take a break, being on the receiving end of the saving than being the sole savior. You can’t help but produce a small smirk as you roll back your shoulders and lean back into the chair, spreading your legs for comfort. “You gettin’ comfortable there? Good, enjoy it while you can. God knows- I know- the work you’ll be doing after this with a body like yours.”

You chuckle, foot now dragging up his leg and positioned in his lap. “But why go through all the hassle, sir? When I could stay, just, right… here” you foot ghosts over his lower abdomen, you relish the sharp intake of breath that signals success. “Mmm, well as good as that would be for the both of us…” he takes a drag of his cigarette, finishing it off on your leg as it places a burn mark on your ankle. “...my brothers could use someone like you, a fighter, a killer of their own. Takes a special kind of fucked up to do the things you have done…” his hand now drags up your leg, fingers dancing over every cut to touch the skin of your leg as you stay still.

“...and if you remain that kind of person for em’, I can only promise rewards beyond your imagination,” he finishes with, stopping his chase of skin at your upper thighs before carrying your leg off his lap and standing. “Now before we get started, is there anything you wish to tell your newest contractor?”

“And what information would that include?” you press forward, blinking twice. “Anythin’ you are wishing to share before I force it outta ya, making both of our jobs easier.”

“Ask your men to leave and I’ll be an open book, can have a nice date about it,” you counter-offer, smile returning to match his one. With one motion of his hand, the room clears outside of the warehouse, the rusty door creaking closed to a slam. “Speak.”

“I was contracted to Greece in order to capture that royal you were after-”

“Who was your contractor then?” They lean forward, as if smelling your hair as you face forwards, tone even. “Undisclosed- manager wanted utmost privacy and I respected that, which made the job easier in the end.”

“And if the job was as easy as you said, why waste tears over a tool to be used for the bag?” They whisper into your ear, you swear to feel them smirk as a bead of sweat drips down your forehead, racing towards the muddied floors below. You wrap a leg around your chair, your hands almost free from the cheap rope they used from the gardiners truck as you access the best way to take this man to the ground and to make your escape.

“I am loyal,” you state, the one truth you have slipped today. “Well that is a blessing and a curse, we have a dilemma on our hands already with you…” His hand drifts up, resting on the back of your neck. You pray that Samantha shuts the fuck up in your ear, unknowling if he can hear her screaming or not. “...Very, very loyal it seems. I am disappointed. Seems as though you already need a lesson, a shame.”

And with that, his fist slams against the bag of your head as you fall towards the floor, finally freed. You snake your feet around his ankles, forcing him down with you and cover his mouth with one of your hands, racing to unhook your necktie as you force it around his throat, trying to buy yourself more time by muffleing his pain. He uses his body weight to roll out from under you, slamming a kick to your side as you curse out. The tie falls around his neck as he wobbles to a stand and you begin to run, hearing the doors slam open as your hand just graces the exit.

Bullets are flying around your head as you duck and weave over the various barrels in the room, looking for a window as another set of guards burst through the door you were just about to use. Quicking throwing yourself back around, you twist your arm with the motions, a series of knives falling from between your suit's fabric and directly between their eyes. Pressing your hand to your ear, “I need immediate evac, industry sector, meeting at south rally point when available.”

Glass cuts across your face as you fly out the window and roll into a run. Trees rip past and blur your surroundings as you follow the sun above you. The sounds of the sea call to you as you make a sharp turn in their direction, their shouts muffled by the ringing in your ears as you hear your shallow breathing, feel as if time is moving slowly for you once more as your body jerks forward. A dull aching feeling against your back, they managed a shot.

The sound of a boat horn slams through your consciousness as you slip down a hill, lengths over extending as you race onto a rammed road filled with cars against the coastline. Drivers honk as you race between cars in the road, policemen call after you, guns raised as well as you race to the front of the accident. A series of cars wait, driving slowly past the crash, the car nowhere to be seen but the rip in the divider separating road from sea as you shake your head before ripping over a divers door.

The woman shrieks at you scream out apology after apology, ripping the keys out from her hands before slamming on the gas and racing down the seaside. Sirens sound from behind you as you see the red and blue lights flashing in your rearview mirror as you curse out. Drifting around a corner as the radio decides to start itself in the junk of a car you managed for yourself.

You roll your eyes at the “white girl” music plays through the radio as you find yourself soaring through another seaside town, car picking up the various displays set on the small street as lights attach to your side mirrors, carrying them down the street with you like a “just-married” car.

You make a sour face at the thought, eyes saddening as look around your surroundings for directions to the nearest rallypoint, the cops in mad pursuit still behind you, some even sneaking up the road in front. A spike trap sounds, popping your wheels as sparks behind to fly, you punch open the window as the song finishes to your bumper crashing into the side of a building. You fall out the side of the car, running up the skin as your legs and lungs burn. Adrenaline causing your hands to feverishly shake as you climb up the lattice of a townhome and crash into their living space. A little boy screams at you as you hold your hands up, pleading that you do not mean to harm the small child before you race down the galley kitchen and slam into the wall, turning to find another glass door to a balcony where the next apartment appears empty.

Jumping across the balcony and onto the next, you break the glass door, and feel for the door handle on the other side. It is dark and sparsely decorated. You feel around the kitchen for a cup, taking a minute to take a sip of water from the tap before throwing the glass to the floor- trying to hide any biological evidence of yourself before looking wildly for the stairs downstairs.

You fail to hear your communications during this chase, your radio buffering in and out as you curse out to Simon's concerned voice asking for an update to your location. You finally find the stairs, emerging onto the town streets once more as you hide yourself in an alleyway. Watching as the blue uniformed men and women carry up the street. Looking over the various backdoors, you find a logo with a dress on it and softly open and close the door to what appears to be a storage room.

You shuffle through the various boxes, finding a range of formal garments and finally at the back, a box of clothes to be donated; shoes and casual wear alike, as you strip yourself of your tattered suit and force it into the bottom of the box. You press your hair down, taking out your earring- knowing that they would make you some serious cash from being pure gold as you strip off your watch with a sad wince. Note to self, no longer wear gifts on missions.

Walking back onto the street with a more casual stride, you find a pawn shop a few blocks down as your stomach gurgles and gain a few thousands dollars that you stuff into your pockets as the shopkeeper does not bat to fucks to. Clothes, Money, check and check.

You just needed food, a good drink and a car out of here. Thankfully you found a small street-side vendor as you ordered yourself an espresso shot and breakfast sandwich as your mouth salivated at the sight of it. Humming out contently at the taste of it as you walked back down to the seaside to examine your destruction- stealing a hat off a rack as you walked down the streets. The fedora covered your features as you pressed your head down, taking another sip of your drink while eyeing around for a phone.

A tourist couple was just about to pay for a bill- perfect. “Excuse me,” you smiled brightly at the two of them, “Is there anything we can help you with?” The woman asked kindly, her charming posh british accent relaxing your features. “Yes, would you mind if I made a quick call to my spouse on the phone- I can’t seem to find them down here.”

“Ah, no problem dear! Here you are, take as much time as you need, we are just finishing up here.”

“Thank you so much!” You flash another smile back, turning your back as it drops just as quickly, your fingers fly across the digits as two rings pass and Kyle's voice sounds in your ear. “Who is this?”

“Oh Kyle darling,” you fake a loving tone, breathing out an exaggerated sigh of relief as your eyes scan the streets. “I can’t seem to find you anywhere, see I am waiting at…” you look up to see the restaurant's name. “... Lola’s, where are you currently?”

You humm to every word he speaks, nodding your head lightly as you grip the phone, smiling at an officer that passes you by with a tip of their hat. “The team and I are about thirty minutes out from your location, are you able to keep this phone?”

“No, sorry dear, I do not see you, ummm, is there a place we could meet up between the both of us?”

“I am dear now?” Kyle chuckles out, “What happened to darling?” you roll your eyes, coughing for him to cut the crap. “Walk 10 minutes east through the alleyways till you see Pearl Bar and Shop, silver car.”

“Alright! Heading over now, see you in a few sweetheart!” and you end the call, sending a thanks to the couple before making your way back into the town core. Various scooters race past you in bright colours, kids kick their soccer balls around the fountain as mothers sit on its ledge, snapping pictures happily. You smile sadly at the sight, your eyes drifting back to the sea, to Whitby, as a cold breeze snaps against your skin as you stumble from the pressure of its ghast and slide back into the alleyways- towards the meet point.

“You look like shit,” Soap comments ever-so-kindly with a chuckle before offering you a sip of beer as you sit at the back of the plane on your way back to headquarters. “Well you kill fifteen guys, one of them your potential spouse, get kidnapped, traumatize a child and then sit on a plane with four men for the next few hours.”

“Well when you put it like that…” you shove his shoulder, walking further up the plane and check up on Simon in the cockpit. “How much longer we got?” you groan out, pressing your head against the doorway as Ghost takes a quick glance back at you, setting the plane to autopilot. “You holding up alright, Handler?” Not answering your question as you send him a glare.

“What do you all fuckin’ think- you all seem to high and jolly with this shit-”

“And you appear like it's not affecting you all that much-”

“WELL WHEN ELSE HAVE YOU SEEN ME A DISHEVELLED MESS IN A FEDORA AND SANDALS?” you scream out, taking another deep sink of your drink, sliding against the wall and to the floor as Gaz unbuckles himself from his seat to kneel in front of you. “I am sorry you have had to go through these things, Dee…” you shake your head at his words.

“No you all don’t understand-”

“No, we do Daniels, and here's the thing. It only gets more fucked up from here on out, you lose the ones you love, you hate yourself for it, you want to fucking kill them yourself for making you feel guilty, kill everyone, kill yourself. We all wanna do it, we all have people we are fighting for- livin’ and dead but here's the thing. Its a job at the end of the day, no matter how fucked up it is, no matter how much we cry and bitch about it- we do our job so that other’s hands stay clean,” John states, turning around from the other piloting seat as he now leans against the doorframe, looking down at you.

You stay quiet absorbing his words as he continues to speak, “we will mourn the loss, he was a good man- a great man to all the good he did for others but he wouldn’t want you this way. Not even right after his death- he always cheered on your fight. Now the decision is up to you, are you staying to fight or are you gonna wallow and retire?”

You nod your head along before slamming your head back against the metal wall, needing the coldness to ease the tension in your muscles. “I’m gonna fight,” you speak in a soft tone- still trying to convince yourself of the idea. “... thank you, John. You’re the first person to not sugar coat my losses… needed to hear it.”

John hums out, leaving down to give your shoulder a squeeze in an awkward side hug before taking control of the plane once more as Simon moves to take a nap at the back of the plane. “Want another beer?” Johnny yells as Simon throws a pillow in his face. You press your hand into a thumbs up, leaning so the signal is visible from down the hall as the glass bottle rolls to your feet as you and Gaz take sips while in a staring contest with one another.

12:00 PM | Spring | Eglinton Funeral Home and Cemetery

You are severely drunk at Whitby's funeral, his parents stand to the side, unknowing to who you and your entourage was that stand at the back underneath a willow tree whose branches drift off towards the sun's rays. 141 and you are dressed to the tens in three-piece suits, pure black accents - you all are shadows of yourselves. Watching as the family and friends walk away you step forwards and stand in front of the open casket, the first thing you notice is his missing glasses. Fixing a hair on his rested head your fingers shake over his cheek before grasping his hand one last time. To your surprise when you unravel it, a diamond ring falls out into your palm as you chuckle back a sob and place it into his suit pocket- right above his heart.

You bow your head, whispering a prayer before taking one last look and finally turn your back on the past. You stumble in your shoes over the uneven pavement stones towards the event hall where ushed cries and somber music play with trays of fresh fruit displayed against the back wall. You blow your nose into your handkerchief before guzzling down a glass of water as Gaz pats your back reassuringly when a family member walks by, glaring at your group. They all didn’t know the shit you both got up to together, how close you were- close to so much more…

Shaking your head, John came back with a plate of fruit for you all to pick at as Whitby’s will is read aloud. You need to sit as you fumble with the buttons of your suit, suddenly feeling too hot as the rest of your crew stands around to shield you from the curious stares of the fellow funeral goers. “Friends, Family, and those connected to Sir Wyatt Whitby. We gather here today to remember a man of great strength, who served his country and had a great sense of humor.”

A series of posh chuckles sound around the room as you feel yourself mentally drifting further and further away from this moment. You would have never fit in with his family, if you ever were to tell them of the danger you put their son into… you probably wouldn’t be breathing any longer… and with that thought, there was a deep part of you that believed you deserved such treatment from your more recent history.

In the few months leading up to the funeral, Whitby’s body had been frozen and preserved so that the headquarters could stage a more believable death to the agent for his remaining family and outside friends. This violently disgusted you, having to see him every time you went to check biological evidence with the scientists in the west wing. Yet John’s words were concrete, pouding in your skull, “fight like he would want you to…” and so you did, and rather brutally at that.

You forced yourself back onto the field, demanding it from upper management- refusing promotion after promotion as Samantha became your new Handler in this turn of events. You often wore dark blue navy suits to hide the blood that drenched every part of the fabric as you shot and hacked away at various bodies on your missions. No witnesses to be left between you and the goal. You will never forget the fearful eyes of that one politician as you gripped their shoulder into the helicopter, your bloody hand staining their crisp white shirt and some of it began to drip into your eye from your hair yet you could not care.

Management was thoroughly satisfied with your independent work- you were the most requested contractor. Money was following in- so much so that you lost reasons to spend it, letting the stacks build under your floorboards and in your jacket pockets before you were floating between bodies, drugs, and the bottom of empty bottles with glasses smashed against dust on the bartop.

You were far gone, everyone at headquarters joked that you had taken form to a rockstar as you flipped them the bird. Sitting at your desk as you choked down a coffee and pain medication, your head still pounding in rhythm to last night's DJ as you swirled around your desk chair, looking up at the ceiling as if you were dancing.

Laswell had called you endlessly, begging for you to reply after every night so she knew you made it home alright, that not another one of her close friends was gone in this line of work. You Stopped replying, 141 never showed up for their last mission, and when you looked at yourself in the mirror- you were as good as dead. Severe bags under your eyes, sex hair was your new hairstyle as lipstick stained every shirt you wore- matching the deep reds of your suits. You were fighting to keep yourself alive, is this what Whitby would want? You chuckle darkly to yourself, calling out to the new secretary that you would be taking your break at the storefront as you lit a cigarette, tapping the embers to the street as your ankle burned in memory.

You leaned against the bright building, blowing the smoke to meet the clouds above as you savoured the bitter taste in your lungs. Your throat burned for more drink, your eyes dry but when a shadow overtook the sun, you opened your eyes- surprised to find them closed and saw a masked-face man tilting his head down at you. “Hello Simon, come to tell me off?” you press, throwing your cigarette to the ground and stopping it down with your boot.

“No. But I am here for our last mission.”

You humm out, trying to rack your tired mind as to when you have received a new debrief. “Fill me in them,” you state, feeling around your suit for another distraction before a gloved hand grips your wrist gently, pulling it out of your suit jacket and down to your side. They do not let go, just looking over your shoulder before leading you back inside the building where Laswell waits, leaning against the counter as she speaks to Samantha. Gaz views the various ties in the display cabinet as Johnny forces himself not to touch the various new products in the windowsill. John observes everyone from the front door and you can’t help the heartache that bellows in your stomach to the scene before you- so reminiscent of your first meeting together.

Laswell runs over, pulling you into a hug as her nose scrunches up at the bruises against your throat and the cigarette breath you breathe. You pat her back stiffly before she pulls away, wiping away a few tears as you lean against the stair railing that leads to the supplies room upstairs. Simon stands still behind you, giving Samantha a nod as she turns back around the counter and disappears into the back.

John walks slowly up to you, replacing Kate as he frowns at the sight of you. You wince at his features scrutinizing your every decision that leads to now before looking down at your boots, unable to meet him in the eyes any longer to the guilt that consumes your being. “I would say it's good to see you again, but I was worried you would be something like this when we got called back-”

“Thanks John, just what I wanted to hear…” you interrupt sarcastically, moving around the man to hug Gaz and Soap in greeting before sitting on top of the counter- right beside the till. Laswell leans against the wood beside you, looking through the various emails on her phone as you start to tap your nails against the treated wood.

“... I fought, long and hard I hope you all know. But now… now I think- I don't actually think,” you laugh to yourself as Gaz winces, looking towards his Captain who had yet to drop his attention from you. John walks up to you once more, holding up your chin so that your eyes meet. You cast him a cheesy fake smile as he hums out, “I’m sorry…”

“What for?” you raise a brow, not clicking in his somber tone as Laswell stares sadly into the side of your head- thinking that you are unknowing.

“For not showing you what to fight for. It's one thing to say something, another to not follow through,” John finishes speaking, dropping his touch as you hold your head up more clearly as you look around the room. “Not your fault, everyone!” you announce, clapping your hands together as you move to stand and walk around the counter, trying to move back to headquarters- brushing off the words. “Sorry for making you all come back here, I’m still here, no need for worry or anything…”

“But that's just the thing,” Soap comments as you snap your head back to face him. “We are staying here for our next mission.”

“Then what is this fucking mission?” you stress back out, pinching the bridge of your nose as the nicotine has started to wear off.

“You,” Gaz states simply, throwing a tie your way with a smile.

“Now it's time to get to work,” Laswell announces, shoving you through the door as you begin to protest and that's how you found yourself here, at this funeral with a bunch of strangers unknowing to his actual death and task force 141.

Your attention snaps back to the will presenter at the sound of your name, “And to my dearest-Dee, thank you for teaching me that the present is enough of a gift that you need not worry about the past or future. I love you darling, and maybe one day we will dance together again but for now- it's time you took some lessons and find a new partner, I will be waiting to see all your new moves and maybe then you will finally tell me your first name.”

You burst out laughing, it echoes throughout the hall, cutting through every tear, sob, and face filled with sorrows. Your shoulders bend up and down rapidly as you clench at your stomach, folding yourself in half as you almost fall off your chair. Soap was not there to place a hand to your shoulder to halt any further movements. You look up to the ceiling, watching as the sun casts through the skylights above as you blink away your tears, trying to even out your breathing while fanning your cheeks with your hands as the reading presumes once more and you make your way outside.

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